Psychosis
by BetsunoNeko
Summary: The newest edition to the town of South Park, Tep Small, had never imagined she'd ever feel safe. With her "curse" and her drunk father's affiliation with the infamous cult of Cthulhu, she could only ever see things going downhill. That is, until, Mysterion enters her world, the first person to ever treat her like she's sane. Because she definitely isn't insane... right?
1. Sane

**Psychosis **

+-Chapter One-+

A pulse begins to beat on her brain. A loud, explosive, thumping. Sharp, like the hit of a hammer against a nail. Loud, loud enough to devour the world, to swallow any and all outside noises, to burst the world. Just as heavy and strong as the beating had come down into her bruised mind, it suddenly dies.

Her eyes fly open and water gushes down her face with a cold cascade. Hair slaps against the girl's face with the soaking and burning touch of the cold. The painful sting of the harsh cold coupled with a heavy pain of a crushing grip cause the girl to wretch and double over across the very force pinning her down.

Slender and bone like fingers pull at much thicker and meatier ones until a crack echoes and splits out through her skull and the girl is pulled upwards by her neck. Water flushes over her now exposed body and, with cold and dripping limbs flailing, she is dragged over the flawless white porcelain rims of the bathtub.

Eyes burn from the dry shock of the intensely warm air as the pressure around her neck pushes deeper, swollen lymph nodes being pushed further and further by heavily chaliced thumbs. The voice of the hands shouts louder and louder, indistinct and garbled speech marred by thick, drunken slurs.

Tears force their way out of her bloodshot eyes with deep purple bags. Her fists clench deeply as the immovable form above her reaches for something. Suddenly a deep chill sends shudders rocketing through her exposed and bare body as the side of an ornate and gothic dagger presses against the skin just above her hip.

"_Cthulhu fhtagn!" _becomes distinct through the man's other garbled ramblings.

The girl whimpers at the fear that creeps into her throat. Or maybe that's the bile or the water caught in her lungs. As the rush of warm blood spills over the slits now embedded in her pasty and ghastly pale skin, the girl's dark and gaunt eyes flicker rapidly until, finally, the blanket of pain wraps the girl up and smothers her in its arms and the blackness of unconsciousness forces itself upon her.

x+xx+xx+x

A group of chattering students hover around a clump of desks in the back of a musty classroom with a sickly shade of neon green paint on the walls and various "inspiring" posters crudely hung. One of the boys, a tall and lanky red-head with a green hat matching the color of the classroom, folds his arms across his chest huffing loudly.

"Go to hell, fatass!" He shouts, averting his jade eyes towards the ceiling.

"Ay!" The boy he's addressing snaps in response, slamming his hands on the desk. The boy is of average height with rotund features that just barely miss the mark of making him seem chubby, a drastic difference from his previous body type nearly five years ago. "Shut your goddamn mouth you fuc-"

"Ladies, ladies," The tallest of the boys with nearly all of his features concealed under an orange parka chides mockingly in a sing-song tone, "you're both pretty."

"Poor piece of shit!" The larger boy shouts, his face turning red under a sky blue and yellow hat. His red coat swishes as he relaxes back down, fuming, into his chair.

A boy with broad shoulders and ink-black hair sighs, looking more than disinterested in their daily heated banter. He props his head up on the desk with his hand and with the other pinches the bridge of his nose. "For once can you just find it in yourselves to be _civil _for five minutes?"

"_I _as a matter of fact, would be happy to be _more _than pleasant if it weren't for this fuckin' Je-"

The classroom door bursts open with a loud crack against the wall and a balding man wearing a very _green _outfit stalks in, holding a steaming coffee mug like it's his life line. His eyes are heavy and seeping with boredom from behind his square rimmed glasses as he throws himself rather ungracefully down into his desk chair. As all of the students in the room begrudgingly turn and take their normal seats the teacher drones, waving his hand as he talks for dramatic affect.

"Good morning students…" He pauses to take a sip of his scalding coffee. "... screw it. Alright you little bastards, get out your algebra books or whatever the hell it is I'm supposed' to be teaching and study or something." For a moment their ninth grade homeroom teacher, Mr. Garrison, stops talking and glares out into the classroom. "Look, I don't care what you do as long as it doesn't bother me." Bored eyes cut out at him from the rows of desks but eventually comply with the teacher.

During this period a crumpled ball of paper slaps into the back of the red-haired boy's head. Annoyed, he turns around and grabs the piece of paper now lying on the floor. Unfolding it he reads: _Cartman's after school. Ask your mom if you can stay over, Kenny and I already have - Stan. _The red haired boy turns in his seat, his eyes finding the brown ones of Stan Marsh. The other boy silently ushers him into passing a note of his own.

As the crumbled yellow sheet of paper lands on Stan's desk, he unfolds it to read in the other boy's blocky writing: _Why? He's an ass, and how come I didn't know about this until now?! _

The next sheet of paper to the red haired Jewish boy irks him more. _Kyle, don't be a prick. _

Kyle Brofloski whips around in his chair, face red with anger and silently mouths at his best friend, "_Fuck you". _

A few minutes later a different sheet of paper rolls onto Kyle's desk. This handwriting is nearly illegible but distinct. _Kyle, are you being a prick? Is this about Cartman's? _

Kyle turns agape and frustrated to the other side of the room where, a few seats away, sits his blonde friend with his hood down and feet on top of his desk, his golden blonde hair in his eyes and crystal blue eyes questioning. Kyle heaves a paper ball at the orange-parka wearing boy, aiming for his head. With startling reflexes, the blonde snatches the paper out of the air before it even comes close to hitting him.

He unrolls it to see, in very bold print, _**FUCK YOU, KENNY**_

The always cheerful boy gives Kyle his best flirtatious grin and gives two thumbs up in his direction. Kyle nearly shakes with irritation turned quickly into anger. Yet another paper ball hits him in the back of the head, and, nearly shaking with his palpable frustration, the temperamental red head reads the note from Stan. _So, you're good then? I'll let the fatass know._

"No, I'm not good!" Kyle seethes out loud, causing every pair of eyes in the room to fall on him, with the exception being, of course, their teacher.

The rest of the last day of their ninth grade year drags on without incident until, to every child and teacher's relief, the final bell sounds with a loud trill down the hallways. The first to erupt out of their desk is the exuberant and often obnoxious blonde, Kenny. He stretches his arms above his head, cracking his neck, and, not caring he's still in the school building, takes out his old and cheap flip phone.

As the group of four unusual friends leave the classroom and down the hallway, a voice calls out from a group by the lockers. A black boy with a purple T-shirt approaches the boys, waving his hand. A group of three others follow behind him. One of the boys is a blonde with sandy hair in desperate need of a cut who can't seem to stop twitching and shifting uncomfortably under the gaze of the others. Feeling instantly embarrassed he recoils into the side of his boyfriend, a gaunt and intimidating boy with raven hair under a blue hat. He seems completely unfazed, and, if anything, a little disinterested. A brown haired boy in a red jacket crosses his arms and huffs, eager to abandon the school campus and stay far, far away for the next two months.

"Hey guys!" The boy in the purple shirt calls out, eager and cheery.

Eric Cartman grunts in response, Kenny waves and at the same time, both Stan and Kyle say, "hey, Token."

"Don't forget to come to the huge party tomorrow night, basically everyone is coming." Token Black announces, gleeful and, by nature, slightly cocky.

Kenny leans in and whispers toward the boy one word, "beer?"

"BYOB." Token whispers in response, eyes scanning for teachers.

"Well, see ya'." Token and his group leave the hallway quickly, rabidly eager to abandon the school for the year.

"Well, Kyahl." Cartman chirps. "Are you going to be a prick and call your myam or do we have to?"

"I am not a prick!" The boy nearly quivers with anger.

"Kyahl, kyahl, kyahl… I don't see a phone in that hand…"

"God damn it fine!" He shouts, pulling out a sleek i-Phone and dialing a number as they walk down the steps out into the hot summer air. Cartman and Kenny begin to chat mindlessly about video games with Stan while Kyle ends his brief conversation with his… _difficult _mother, Sheila Brofloski.

"No, I'm telling you, the Xbox is so much better for multiplayer-"

"No, and I'm telling you, _Kinny, _Playstation!" Kyle eventually joins in, and, while they pass the house next-door to Cartman's, something catches Kenny's sharp eyes.

"Hey, guys?" He asks, pointing at a realty sign reading: **SOLD. **"When did someone buy here? Hasn't this place been vacant forever?" The house is really nothing impressive with one abnormality, a large oak tree casting a giant shadow across the sidewalk and out into the road.

The four boys stop to admire the sign.

"Oh, huh." Stan says, curiously eyeing the windows, drawn shut with curtains.

"I wonder who lives here." Kyle asks.

"Who cares? Maybe we'll give them a little _welcome _present. I have some eggs back at my house, and I think my mom just bought a new pack of T.P…." As Cartman begins to scheme a large object falls out of the tree and lands on its feet skillfully in the grass underneath, glaring daggers at the boys.

The figure steps out into the light of the afternoon sun and the boys can't help but stare with mixed reactions. The figure is a short girl with a rail thin and haunting frame, her eyes hollow and dark with an almost haunting shade of deep, deep blue. She has long raven hair cropped at an angle reaching down her back mid-way with long, scraggly and unkempt bangs sweeping across her ghastly pale face. She is wearing white shorts and a black and dark green tank top and the chain of a pocket watch catches the late afternoon sun. She is barefooted and wears a pair of dark brown biking goggles with separate lenses around her neck. Her lips are dry and cracked and she glares daggers at Cartman, not bothering to look at any of the other boys. A book is in the grass where she had landed.

"Can I help you?" Her voice is a dry deadpan.

One lone purple highlight in her hair becomes visible as she shifts feet. Kenny's eyes widen slightly in interest. He knows that shift of feet. It something someone typically does when their hip is wounded.

"No!" Kyle quickly defends, embarrassed.

Her eyes fall on him and his blood chills. Her expression bends slightly into a seemingly apologetic look and she looks back towards Cartman, taking a menacing step forward, her shoulders rolled, the dark circles under her eyes and a scar on her neck standing out.

"Egg or TP my house, I will personally break your fingers." She hisses. A bracelet clinks on her wrist and Stan raises an eyebrow, pointing at it.

"Isn't that one of the… uh… medical alert bracelet things they give to mental patients?" He asks, turning his head. The girl jumps and her face flushes bright red as she hides her arm behind her back.

"I-I'm not crazy!" She stutters in a high pitched tone, defending herself far too quickly.

"R-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-ight…" Cartman drones, giving her a cockeyed look.

"I'm Kyle, this is Stan, Kenny, and Fatass."

"Ay!"

"Welcome to the neighborhood, I guess." Kyle introduces, forgoing Cartman's loud and shrill interruption.

"Tep. I'm Tep." The girl mutters shyly, still looking embarrassed, and even more so at saying her name.

"Tep?" Cartman questions, laughing. "What the fuck kindof name is 'Tep'?" He bellows, laughing hysterically.

Tep immediately bends down and scoops up a stone, hurling it with incredible speed and accuracy, smacking Cartman square in the chest and causing him to fall flat on his back with shock.

Her features are tense and angry, but she quickly relaxes, blushing furiously. "Well, uh… my real name is actually worse." She mutters, staring at the ground.

"What is it?" Kyle asks, curious.

"…Nyarltep." Cartman burst out laughing furiously, and even Stan and Kyle begin to giggle slightly. Kenny's eyebrows furrow. Something about that name is oddly familiar in a haunting sort of way. Like a face you can't account for on a photograph, or seeing a friend of a friend in a crowd. Tep sighs. "It was my Dad's stupid idea…" She grumbles. "…He's a cu-… he's really into Cthulhu mythos…" Kenny jumps visibly and his eyes widen with slight fear. "…it's after some made-up God or something named Nyarlhotep, The Crawling Chaos." She explains dryly, perpetuating a clearly familiar tale.

"That's _kewl, psycho._" Cartman mocks bitterly and sarcastically. At the word _psycho _Tep tenses and lurches at him, gripping the much, much taller and larger boy by the collar of his shirt and pulling his face deathly close to her own.

"**I'm. Not. Crazy**." Tep hisses darkly, in a tone none of the boys have ever heard from anyone before. Cartman pales.

As if realizing what she'd done, Tep immediately drops him and inches backwards, hands up in the air, face pink and white with embarrassment and something else. "S-sorry."

"Are you kidding?" Kyle snickers. "Anyone that can put the fatass in his place is alright by me." Cartman is still too dazed and angry to respond to Kyle's comment, but Stan manages to laugh meekly.

"Alright, Tep." Stan says, waving to her as the group slowly begins to move towards Cartman's house. "Nice meeting you… kinda. I guess we'll see you around."

"Y-yeah. B-bye."

Kenny manages to snap himself out of his daze long enough to follow the other boys inside the safety of Cartman's house. As they file in through his front door, Kenny remains frozen on the cement porch steps, staring at the unmoving silhouette of Tep. And he can't seem to get the image of her eyes and her seething words out of his head.

"_I'm. Not. Crazy." _

Now that's debatable.

* * *

**-+-+- Hi! This is my first South Park fic and thanks for reading to this point! I'm a crazy huge HP Lovecraft fan so I decided to include some of his other mythos gods... Nyarlhotep! And no, Tep is not actually Nyarlhotep, it's just her name. **

**Parings for this story I'm thinking are: KennyXTep(OC), probably breifly CartmanXTep, Kyman, Stendy. ****Review, pretty pretty please? *u***

**^BetsunoNeko^ /  
**


	2. Under The Light

**-+-+- Hi everyone, **

**Thanks so much for reading, ultra thanks to my reviewers, TheGrimKeeper and khfan12. **

**I know I start the beginning out a little slow but stick with it, Tep has her first encounter with the other kids in this chapter including Craig and Tweek! I must admit, I had a _lot _of fun writing that. I'll most likely update again fairly soon... Oh and by the way, the things in italics that stand alone in their own "paragraphs" are Tep's thoughts... I wasn't sure how to write them, I figured that's a good a way as any.  
**

**Even though I already said it, thanks for reading!**

* * *

-Chapter Two-

The front door on the ugly crème colored house opens just a crack and two blue eyes shine from the shadowy and dark entry way. A soft, fearful, and honey sweet voice coos from beyond the oak of the door, using it almost as a shield. "Nyarltep, sweetheart. Your father would like to see you."

Tep flinches where she stands in her new front yard. She musters a nod and turns towards the house that now seems to daunting and dark. The black haired girl stares at the door hesitantly and forces herself to make her feet move, cringing as she applies weight against the still fresh wound on her hip. She casts one more longing glance at the green house beside her own and inhales sharply, turning her sharp features into a monotonous and emotionless mask. She pulls open the door.

The house is incredibly dark and nearly entirely unpacked already. The first thing to catch anyone's eye would be the black shelf directly on the wall across from the door, past the stairs where an ugly black statue hovers over the room, one clawed hand outstretched forming the shape of a ball. Tep has always wondered whether the figure in the statue was clutching the Earth, or reaching out it's hand to grasp yours. The figure is hunched over with scrawny useless looking wings just barely curling out of a folded position. Where the head should have ended are a mass of tentacle looking extremities pouring out over each other like snakes and the empty eyes of the palm sized stone statue are haunting to say the least.

Hanging above this gothic figure is a black tapestry with a white circle in the center. In the circle is a pattern-like assortment of lines and symbols ranging from the sun to a lizard and unreadable markings Tep can only assume to be some kind of long forgotten language. The rest of the room is simple, but very dark. All of the furniture is black. The couch, the chair, the TV stand, the side table, the lamp, never on.

The only other unusual thing, the color scheme (or lack thereof) and bizarre decorations aside, is the large and rather disturbing quantity of candles. None are burning at the moment. If Tep were to guess at a glance, she would say maybe forty, just in this room alone. The entire house reeks of the overpowering scent of vanilla and the faintest hint of alcohol.

As Tep turns to close the door, she notices the other odd decoration nailed to the wall above it. A giant Katana blade with lavish golden embroideries on the hilt stares back at her. A harsh memory hits her like a wave and the girl's dark eyes instantly pull away.

Her mother is a short and frail looking woman with fair skin and hollow features. She stands just in the kitchen entryway and casts an empty smile at Tep.

"He's in his study, dear."

"Thanks." Tep mutters dryly, trudging down the hallway under the stairs, stopping in front of a dark oak door. Fearfully, Tep's knuckles bounce off of the wood, making a light thumping. The sound of glass shattering snaps throughout the room and she flinches.

The door flies inwards and a tall and broad man with thick shoulders leans in the doorway, obviously using it to stand. A shattered bottle of whiskey is in his right hand. His dark eyes scan the now squeamish and anxiety ridden Tep without the slightest hint of recognition.

"Oh…" He slurs after a moment, the reek of beer and tobacco claiming Tep's senses instantly. "…youuu…. Whadda'ya want?" The man staggers and sways in the doorway.

"Mom said," Tep starts softly and cautiously, her voice yet still rigid, "you wanted to see me."

"What doesss it look like… to youu? Failure… you'ree alwaysss gonna' fuck sstufff up for me, T-tep…" He staggers backwards, slamming the door in her face with a loud bang. She jumps and releases a breath she wasn't aware she had been holding.

'_Failure.' _Tep shudders and shakes her head.

Marching slowly back into the kitchen she pulls open the fridge as her mother begins to run the water in the sink to wash some dishes. The fridge is entirely empty except for two cans of beer, one opened, and an overturned bottle of some other fancy brand named, expensive drink. Then, at the back of the fridge, staring her in the face, is a small glass vile with a cork in the top.

Her lungs refuse to work. Bile rises in her throat as she reaches a shaking hand outwards, her alert bracelet clinking gently against her skin. The cold glass vile feels awfully chilling in her fingers and she strokes a thumb against the side, staring at the red contents in the glass. Blood.

Her own blood.

_This is where he's been keeping it? _

"Is everything okay sweetie?" Her mother asks from behind her, resting her gloved hands against the counter as a plate drips white suds into the sink. Quickly Tep jams the vile in her front pocket and closes the empty and cold fridge.

"N-no." Her mom gives her a questioning gaze. "D-did… he get paid yet? The fridge is kinda'…" Laura Small casts a crestfallen gaze away from her daughter. "Oh. I'll be out for a while."

"Tep?"

"Y-yea?"

"Be careful darling."

"Sure, Mom." Tep exists the house, breathing a sigh of relief instantly upon stepping out of the musty and suppressing atmosphere into the early evening summer air. Her still bare feet touch the grass as she hops down from the concrete steps and onto the yard. She stops by her overturned and discarded book from earlier, pausing only briefly to kick it into the bushes of the yard.

_I'll get it later. _

She picks a random direction and starts walking. Her bare foot touches a small stone and she bends to pick it up, throwing it up and down in her palm as she walks, trying to take in as much of her new neighborhood for the first time. It seems normal enough. She passes a yellow bus stop sign and enters into an area full of businesses, most small and local. While caught up in soaking in everything there is to see, Tep completely overlooks where she's going and before she knows it a force smashes into her and she staggers backwards.

_Ugh… why does this always happen? _

A lean girl with black hair much like hers under a pink barrette stands angrily with her arms folded over her chest.

"Watch it-" the girl begins to snap when her eyes soften as she takes in the shorter and clearly much more awkward looking girl before her. "… are you new?" Tep nods warily. A group of four other girls are clumped behind the pink hatted girl who immediately brightens up. "Welcome to South Park! Sorry I almost snapped at you!" She chuckles bubbly. "I'm Wendy Testaburger. This is Bebe, Lola, Nichole, and Red."

"Tep Small." Tep forces herself to be normal and smiles.

"Nice to meet you, Tep." Wendy seems slightly taken aback by her bizarre name but quickly writes it off. "I'd invite you to join us but I was just about to head home and my parents said I'm pushing it already with the number of people I'll be having over later, you know, end of the school year sleep-over!" She laughs light heartedly again.

"Of course, no problem."

"Hope to see you around, Tep." Wendy says before moving off. The other girl's each cast Tep an analyzing look before following their friend. They all seem nice enough to the already uncomfortable girl, and Tep continues her exploration.

She stops in front of a coffee shop, feeling her stomach flip with hunger. Taking a deep breath inwards Tep steps into the small and warm store, yellowish light falling around her eyes and causing her to wince away for a moment. There's a brief line of two other people in front of her and as she waits Tep scans the menu written in chalk over the cashier's head.

Inhaling sharply she steps up to the counter. A boy hidden under a blue chullo hat with a matching dark blue jacket stares at her blandly, looking irritated.

"H-hey uh, do you have anything… like… _really _caffeinated?" Tep asks, fishing in her pocket for a wad of extra cash in case her father blows his pay check on drinks and whatever the hell else he's doing these days.

"The fuck you think? It's a coffee shop r-tard." The boy's voice is very nasally.

"C-Craig- GAH- d-don't be mean to the- ergh- customers! They'll all leave and my family will go out of business and I'll starve and I'll have to hunt for food and kill with my bare hands- GAH-, I don't want to kill with my bare hands to survive, man! I'm not cut out for killing- gah!" A scrawny blonde with deep bags under his eyes twitches uncontrollably by a coffee machine, balancing cups on a tray and yanking at his sandy blonde hair nervously. His voice is piercing and loud.

"Calm down, Tweek, Christ. You're not gonna' have to go kill animals with your bare hands to survive… Look, I'm only doing this to help you out." The Chullo-hat-boy replies blandly, casting a look behind him at the blonde.

"Y-you don't have to, y-you know."

"Yeah, I know." The boy at the register, Craig, as the other boy called him, turns back to Tep. "So?"

"Large coffee… black, I guess." She mutters dryly, baffled by the quick and heated exchange.

"Hey, are you new or something?" Craig asks, pushing a button on the register and handing a few bills in change back to Tep.

"Oh, yeah, it's my first day here."

"Do you have a name?"

"Tep." She says, avoiding eye contact, embarrassed by her name.

"Craig."

The blonde comes over to the counter, standing unusually close to Craig, handing a white coffee cup over to Tep. The blonde gasps suddenly and loudly, snapping his whole body back and twitching dramatically. His brown eyes are locked solely on Tep's bracelet.

"Tweek…" Craig pulls an arm almost unnoticeably around Tweek's lower back. It's no use really, the boy continues to twitch rather violently.

"GAH- Oh God! Are you going to go crazy and shank me and leave my body here for rats to eat and- and-"

Tep's face turns scarlet red and she tucks her hand away, cramming it into her pocket. Her fingers instantly touch the forgotten vile of blood and she yelps, turning pale under her blush and dropping the coffee cup on the ground. She winces as a glass shard enters her foot between her toes. She calmly lifts her foot up, the pain still noticeable but miniscule compared to other things she's felt before.

"Shit…" Tep hisses. "God… man, I'm sorry, really, I'll uh clean it up and pay for the cup or whatever. Ah, crap." Moving backwards, she steps again on another sharp. Blood starts to trickle off of her foot and hit the tile floor.

"No, it's fine, I got it." Craig answers, casting a concerned look at the still panicking blonde. "Jesus, Tweek, you okay?"

"Y-Yeah, b-but she isn't!" Tweek throws out a shaky and bony finger at Tep whose eyes immediately harshen.

"What are you talking about?"

"T-The bracelet! It's those medical-alert thingies and- GAH- it said- ERGH- schizophrenic!" Tep exhales like a deep, inaudible growl at the back of her throat.

"Schizo-what?"

"She's crazy, man!" Tweek jumps and makes a high pitched yelping noise. By now, most of the customers have already left, leaving only Tep and the two boys in the store. They've either been annoyed by Tweek screeching and having small spasms, or the small glass particles all over the floor, seamlessly blending in. Tep's warm blood begins to make the bottom of her feet warm.

She steadily backs up and tip toes out of the majority of the glass.

"Seriously?" The Tucker boy looks at Tep, raising an eyebrow. She clicks her tongue irritably.

"Look, I'll just get outta' here, really." It's too late though, at this point she's backed up far enough that from where's he's standing, both Craig and Tweek can see the blood on her feet and the jagged bolt-shaped shard of white glass sticking out of her foot.

"Shit, your foot… why aren't you wearing shoes?" The black haired boy asks her, confused and slightly stunned by the bluntly stupid behavior.

"I-I don't like them… okay?" Tep turns red again.

"Your shoes?"

"Shoes in general…" She huffs, crossing her arms.

"Never-mind I guess… Tweek, go get the first aid kit, I'll get the glass." The blonde pulls away, startled.

"N-no way man! She's still c-crazy!"

"Tweek, she seems fine. Plus, you hate blood. Just go get it, alright? I'll make it up to you later." The blonde stays rooted in place, baffled and even maybe scared. Craig inhales deeply, turning a light shade of pink. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, and I doubt she'll do anything."

"I just came in here for some coffee…" Tep mutters dryly under her breath.

Craig comes around the edge of the counter and starts to sweep up the glass while Tep eases herself into a chair and props her foot against her knee. In her thumb and index finger she grips the surprisingly thick piece of glass and bites into her cheek, pulling suddenly. She yelps and claps her hand over her mouth out of instinct.

"Jesus fucking Christ, you just pulled it out? That thing was in deep." Craig states with some sort of respect for her stoic-ness and pain tolerance. He dumps the glass in the trash out of the sweeper and comes over as Tweek emerges from out of the back room, carrying a white box in his hands. He seems slightly calmer.

"It's fine." Tep turns her foot by the ankle and grips the other, a smaller fragment dug into her left heel.

"You seriously just walk around barefoot?" Craig asks, popping open the case as Tweek cautiously sits across from Tep and begins to tug at his hair.

"Yeah, this kinda' thing happens a lot…" She chuckles, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly.

"Maybe try wearing some goddamn shoes." Tep chuckles, loosening the tension slightly. With a little help from Craig, she applies a little peroxide and bandages the small but wide cuts easily, as if it's second nature.

After she's finished, Tweek emerges from behind the counter, carrying three mugs on a tray. He sets them down on the table and hands one to Craig who roots himself in a chair, again, unusually close to the blonde. Nervously, Tweek slides over a cup to Tep, being careful not to touch her.

"Look, I have mental problems, but I'm not a crazy axe murderer and touching me won't give you the plague." Tep sighs dryly, inhaling the scent of coffee as she lifts the cup to her mouth, drawing in large gulps at a time.

"S-Sorry!" Tweek croaks out suddenly and loudly.

"Don't worry about it, really."

"So… Tep, where are you from?" Craig says more in the form of a statement than a question.

"New York." She places her cup down on the table with a soft thud.

"Sheesh. Why South Park of all the places on Earth?"

"It's uh… well an_ organization _my father used to be part of is here. Some of his old buddies still live here and… I think I was born here. I don't really remember…" She places a thumbnail to her bottom lip as if engulfed in deep thought.

"Why would you if you were that little when you lived here?"

"I have photographic memory… I can remember almost every little detail about nearly every moment of my life from the time I was able to form sentences."

"GAH- r-really?" Tep nods.

"I can tell you the first color of crayon I pulled out of a crayon box I got as a present on my fifth birthday from one of my mom's friends. Violet." Tep smirks.

"That's kinda' cool. What kind of organization is your dad in?" Tep visibly shudders. "Daddy issues?" Her dark eyes widen.

"What makes you say that?" Her voice shakes a little.

"Woah, calm your shit. Well, you said 'father' instead of 'dad' for one."

"I guess you could call it that. So, uh, are you guys a couple or something?" She asks, taking a long swig of her coffee. Tweek squeaks and jolts, sending coffee sloshing across the table. His face turns a deep scarlet and Craig cracks a small smile.

"How'd you know?" He responds in his still mostly emotionless tone.

"You stand a few inches closer to him than I'd stand next to someone normally, and this is the third time you've 'stealthily' tucked your arm across his lower back. I can't see your arm itself, but I notice the way you're shoulder moves with the action." Craig chuckles a little, his voice still nasally even when laughing.

"You're perceptive."

"Just a good people reader. Oh and he can't stop staring at you."

"Aw man- she's got me a-all figured out! Holy shit are you a w-witch? C-can you see my soul? GAH- oh Jesus Christ!"

"Tweek, she's not a witch." Craig chuckles, pulling a hand through Tweek's hair and swatting away the boy's bony fingers as he tries to nervously pull at chunks of the blonde mess.

"Why a coffee shop? Is it your parent's place?" Tep is stopped abruptly and her body goes rigid.

A familiar and excruciating burning pain rips through Tep's eyes. She instantly digs her knuckles into her eye lids, forcing them closed, but it comes anyways. _They _always come anyways. An image of the two boys in front of her plays out in her mind. The light fixture right above Tweek's head suddenly falls and hits him, full force, carrying plaster with it. Tep gasps and it takes every part of her being not to reach forward and pull him out of the way.

"You alright?" Craig asks as Tweek stands and carries his cup over to the coffee machine behind the counter. Just as he hits the button, a small groan thrums throughout the building and the light fixture falls to the ground, hitting the seat of the chair where Tweek had been sitting moments before. Craig shouts out in surprise, nearly falling out of his seat. Tweek shrieks like a maniac and drops to the floor, his arms over his head. Tep is the only one unfazed.

She sits a little out of breath in the same spot but finds it in her to stand.

Tweek slowly peeks his head over the counter, shuddering, dark brown eyes swimming with fear that nearly radiates off of him.

"Fucking shit…" Craig mutters.

Just then the door to the coffee shop flies open, sending the bell ringing loudly. Tweek screams and goes back to his crouching position on the ground under the counter, his hands over his head as if he's afraid a bomb will be dropped on him.

A group of four boys enter, a blonde with nearly all of his features hidden under a thick orange parka. Stan, Kyle, Cartman and Kenny file into the room. Kenny yanks off his hood.

"The hell happened here?" he asks, the first to speak.

"Oh, it's you." Kyle points out at Tep.

"We can see that, Jew. I have fucking eyes." Cartman taunts, even while looking just as confused as the others.

"I- uh…" Tep shifts uncomfortably. "I should probably get going, it's already dark out and my father gets kinda' pissed when I'm out late. Sorry to cause all the issues earlier, Tweek, Craig."

"It's fine…" Craig mutters, eyes fixed on Tweek, still cowering under the counter. He looks a little dazed that a light fixture nearly fell on and killed the blonde.

"S-see you around, I guess." Tep slinks out of the store, slithering past the four boys and slinking off into the night.

x+xx+xx+x

Tep, panting, her hair soaking wet and her clothes heavy and clinging to her body throws open her bedroom door, stumbling and falling to her knees on the carpet of her bedroom floor. She groans, reaching up to lock her door. She lets herself roll onto her back, running her hand through her soaking wet hair that splatters around her head like a black veil.

A sharp pain winces through her hip. She slips her hand just under the waist of her shorts and pushes her fingers into the bandage which makes a squishing sound. Tep turns her hand over. Her room being too dark to see in, she puts her fingers on the tip of her tongue. A salty and metallic taste rocks her.

Blood.

_Shit, it must have reopened. _

She pulls herself up, balancing in the frame of her door, and flicks on her light. As the yellowing light throws itself around the room, a silhouette becomes visible in her window. Tep jumps, spitting blood into her palm from a wound in her mouth.

Tonight, her father's 'ritual' was not as bad as she expected. It was worse than it's been in a while, but not as bad as the night before. He didn't cut anything, and didn't take the blood from said cut. But sooner or later he'll find out that the vile from the night before is gone and he'll have her throat.

Tep stumbles over to her desk, keeping her eyes locked on the figure watching her from just outside her window. With one hand clutching the bleeding wound on her hip, her hand feels around until she rips a toothed knife out of a holder tapped under the top of her desk.

"I'm armed, dick-wad! Come in or get the fuck out!" She hisses loud enough for the figure outside her room to hear, but not loud enough for her father too. If he heard her… nothing this crazy stalker could ever do to her could be worse.

The window slowly opens and the figure steps in.

The figure is tall and muscly with crystal blue eyes hidden under a black mask and a deep purple hood, almost the shade of Tep's own eyes. A neon green M is on the front of a light purple suit and a black belt containing many pockets is around the figure's hips. They're wearing a black speedo-looking thing outside of the skin tight purple suit. On their head is a bobbing green question mark.

"Are you going to put the knife down?"


	3. Grand Delusions

**-+-+- Yay chapter three :3**

**Wasn't sure if I'd make it this far... God I love Mysterion! **

**Thanks for reading and thanks for reviewing!**

**All quotes in this chapter (the Nyarlathotep one) belong entirely to HP Lovecraft from _The Call of Cthulhu And Other Dark Tales. _I'm such a Lovecraft nerd 0u0**

**Enjoy! **

* * *

-Chapter Three-

"No, I don't think I will." Tep hisses, leaning into the side of her, yes you guessed it, black desk. Her blood soaked and drenched palm flops around the edge of the table, looking to grip the corner, but, leaning all of her weight against her dripping palm, she slips against the edge of the desk, nearly face-planting with the knife pointing outwards. She hits the ground with a thud and her head swims with the force.

The figure now standing in her room has now had time for his eyes to adjust. He thought she had just been wet from a shower, but no, she is _wet. _Like she almost _drowned _wet. Her clothes are thoroughly soaked and dripping, her hair plastered where it touches her skin. She struggles to stand but quickly does. She wipes her palm against her shorts and that's when the hooded figure sees it.

Her right hand is slipped just under the waist of her denim shorts, gripping something. The fingers of that hand, nearly up to her knuckles, are red. With blood. A small trail of blood also clings to the corner of her lip and a bandage hangs loosely off of her right foot in between her toes. Her breathing is ragged and her shirt is dripping and splattered with pale pink blood, diluted in color from the water.

Tep raises the knife in a pathetic attempt to look threatening. "Tell me who the fuck you are or get the fuck out, either way, _never _come back."

"I'm not leaving."

"Are you blind or just fucking stupid? This is a knife and I know how to use it." Her voice is steadily starting to slur. Her dark eyes widen. She notices it too.

"Like I said, I'm not leaving." His voice is deep and gravely, he's throwing it as a fake voice, no doubt. From the looks of his size he seems her age, maybe a little older. Tep reassures herself. She pulls her hand up from her waist and watches blood roll off of it like raindrops. Despite her best efforts, she swoons and stumbles slightly before bracing herself against the chair again and pushing her denim against her hip. The bleeding will stop eventually, she knows that.

"The fuck do you want then! I'm kind-of dealing with something!" She shouts. Instantly she forgets about the wound on her hip and slaps a hand over her mouth.

There is a deathly silence. Nothing comes.

"Ack-", Tep yelps in pain, despite her best efforts, and drops to her knees, coughing. Slight amounts of excess water spew from her lips and she wretches, nearly vomiting.

It takes every ounce of his being for the masked boy in her room not to do something. He can't. She won't let him. He can tell that. Every part of him is tense.

Panting, Tep tucks the knife in her back pocket and stumbles weakly to her bed, now on the same side of the room as the masked figure. She pulls open a drawer to her night stand and digs around. That's when he becomes aware of _it. _

A small grey statue made out of glass sits on a shelf above Tep's bed. The statue big enough to fit in his palm, has tentacle like appendages spewing out of an octopus like head, claw like limbs perched and arched, wings about an inch long each curled and spread out on each side, like those of a bat. Every part of him screams. Two black candles are on either side of the figure, one smaller than the other, more used. The rest of the room is plain and bare, nothing else is on the wall. Nothing else is exposed out on her dressers or on her floor. Not even a jewelry box.

The masked figure rips his eyes away from the figurine to Tep. A quiet ripping sound snaps him back to reality as Tep grips a strip of gauze bandage in her teeth, tearing a long strip. Her eyes find his. In her other hand is a bottle of peroxide.

"Turn the other way. I'll deal with you in a minute."

"You should go to a hospital." He isn't really sure what to say. But it seemed to work.

"I don't need a fucking hospital, god damn it! Of all the timing for a fucking 'hero' to show up in my room of all places… now? Really?" She hisses, dripping some of the peroxide carelessly onto the bandage.

"So you know who I am?" He seems slightly taken aback but his overall suppressing and heavy presence remains strong.

"Look, are you going to turn around or not?" She mutters, her hand gripping the edge of her shorts. The masked figure says nothing. Grumbling something inaudible, Tep pulls the waist of her shorts down, revealing ghastly pale skin. A large jagged cut almost two inches long runs at an angle from just below her hip to her stomach. She tears the old blood-soaked bandage off and instantly slaps the new peroxide-soaked one on.

Tears sting her eyes at the burning that rockets through her but she continues to work, putting all of her pressure against the wound. After a long minute of silence the bleeding stops and so does the intense, electric pain. She wraps a new roll of white gauze around her waist and tapes it on. Quickly she wraps up her foot. Again.

_How many times am I going to have to do this today? _

Despite the pain, she stands, as if it's nothing. She grabs her hair in her hands, still dripping with blood, and move it away from her face and eyes.

"What do you want, Mysterion?" She hisses his name like venom.

"So you do know me."

"I did my research before I moved. I like to know where I'm going. You're quite a media whore." Tep picks her knife back up and moves over to her desk, slipping it under the top and into a hilt, duct taped to the underside of the desk in case of emergencies.

"It just seems to happen." His deep and fake voice gives her chills.

"Right. Are you going to tell me what you want?"

"Yes. But first, what was that?" His eyes are emotionless. Stoic. Grave.

"Doesn't. Matter." Tep spits out.

"I think it does."

"Do I look like I care?" Her eyes spit hellfire.

"Your name. Nyarltep. From the Cthulhu mythos, am I correct?" Tep visibly cringes.

"Yes." She mutters, emotionless. "Nyarlathotep. The Crawling Chaos. '_-the detestable pounding and piping whereunto dance slowly, awkwardly, and absurdly the gigantic, tenebrous ultimate gods- the blind, voiceless, mindless gargoyles whose soul is Nyarlathotep._' I'm aware of my own namesake." Her eyes are suddenly very hollow.

"What are your affiliations with the Cult of Cthulhu?"

Her breath hitches. Tep, when she next tries to speak, manages a weak squeaking tone. "What do you know about that?" She spins around suddenly, away from her desk, eyes wide and suddenly fearful. "That stuff… no one should be involved with it, especially some kid who thinks he's hot shit because he's a vigilante from a small town!" Mysterion can't tell if she's afraid, sad, angry, or all of the above.

"Tell me everything you know."

"N-no." Her voice isn't as strong as Tep had hoped. Mysterion takes a step forward, his shoulders arched. "I won't. No one should be involved with it. You don't know what you're dealing with."

A wide smirk spreads across his face. "Believe me, I know better than anyone."

Tep glares at him. "What. Do. You. _Mean?_"

"Tell me what you know."

She inhales deeply. "Everything."

"What?" His low voice asks.

"Everything. I know absolutely everything. I'm a child of the cult. I was born to be a member of the cult. My mom didn't want kids, my dad sure as hell didn't either. But here I am. I was born _for _the cult. Literally." Tep inhales. "So, what do you want to know?"

Mysterion doesn't breathe for a moment. "What were they going to do with you?"

Tep glares daggers. If looks could kill, he'd be dead. "I can't tell you that."

"Tell me, Nyarltep."

"It's Tep, asshole!" She throws herself down into her desk chair, crossing her arms over her chest and shuddering with the cold as water drips from her hair into her lap.

"Either tell me what they were going to do with you, or why you're covered in blood and look like you just dove in the ocean." Mysterion demands, his voice low and incredibly harsh.

"No. Not until I get information from you first. Why do you want to know?" She narrows her eyes.

"Personal reasons."

"Bullshit. Give me more than that." She leans forward in her chair, a low irritated growl forming at the back of her throat.

"I can't."

"Stalemate." Tep leans back into her chair, her eyes feeling incredibly heavy against the rest of her body. She's barely able to keep her head up.

The masked vigilante sighs deeply. "What about your bracelet? Aren't those medical alert bands? They're not usually given to mental patients." Tep goes pale. "Why do you have one?"

"You can read it from here? Damn, you're good." She exhales deeply and presses her thumb to her temple. "You can order engraved ones from companies online. My father knows a guy and insisted I get one. It's not like I'm dangerous…" Her voice drops off, a crestfallen look in her eyes.

Mysterion reaches into his cloak and pulls out something. He tosses it forwards and it slides across the floor, hitting Tep's bare feet. The masked man braces himself in the window and mutters without turning back, "we'll continue this some other time." He then throws himself outwards and disappears with the wind. Tep bends and picks up the object.

Clasped in her hands is a granola bar in a purple and yellow wrapper. Her stomach lurches. After quickly devouring the only food she's had that day, she throws herself downwards onto her bed, covering her eyes with her arm.

"What a fucking day."

x+xx+xx+x

Tep blinks for a long moment before rolling over in her bed, a sharp pain shooting through her body as her freshly re-opened wound protests against the movement. She groans audibly, pressing her palm to her head as a headache threatens to split open her skull. Tep forces herself up into a sitting position and glances at her clock. Almost… six in the morning?

It's late to her. On a normal night, Tep barely gets more than five or six hours of sleep. Ever since she can remember she's been plagued with terrible night terrors and no amount of medication helps. So, before she can fall into deep sleep, she's trained her subconscious to wake itself up only after a few hours to prevent screaming fits in the night.

Grumbling as she stands, Tep moves to asses herself in the mirror. Her usually straight hair is curly from falling asleep with it still wet, her tank-top and denim jeans she didn't bother to change out of dried and turned brittle against her skin overnight. Under her dark eyes are shadowy bags of sleeplessness and a dried streak of blood is under her cheek. Tep mutters something darkly under her breath.

She opens her closet and pulls out a pale yellow V neck T-shirt and a black pair of shorts. She tugs both on hurriedly, sighing with relief as she sheds the uncomfortable and irritating clothes from the night before. Tep boredly runs her fingers through her hair and lazily ties the inky mess into a loose pony tail before she turns away, satisfied.

Placing herself down at her desk, she begins to think.

_What in the hell does "Mysterion" want with the cult? _

Sighing and groaning loudly with irritation, she thumps her head against the side of the desk, whining to herself.

"Why is everything so _complicated_?!" He said he would be back and they would continue this later. Tep stands, exhaling. If he was going to be back and demand answers, she would have them. Herself, of all people, would know whatever questions he has. Her entire life has been about the cult, even after her father was "excommunicated", you could say.

With her photographic memory, she has memorized every mythos story, ever couplet, every saying, every line of the lost language of the cult. Some of it, to say the least, is easier understood than others. Some she still wrestles with, hoping that one day soon, she'll understand. Her father has never let the cult go. He is obsessed and whole-heartedly a believer. He is willing to do anything for his gods.

Anything.

Tep doesn't know for sure, but it's probably why he has been taking her blood lately and ramping up the severity of his "punishments".

She doesn't know the whole story, but Tep was meant to be some kind of vessel for a power of some kind. She was supposed to be invoked with some sort of "gift" at birth, but apparently the ceremony went wrong and she ended up "normal". No one knows but her just how wrong they were. It worked. But not in the way they wanted it to. Their "gift" wasn't what they intended. It gave her a type of _sight. _She can see everything and remember every moment. Even the moments that never came.

Tep can see what happened, what _could _have happened, and what _would _have happened.

And it tears her apart every day.

Tep pulls open her front door and tip toes silently down the bleak hallway. Her bare feet make barely a noise against the carpeted stairs and she touches the cold wooden floor boards just outside of the front door. Silently, she pulls it open, fingering her house key around a chain tucked into her shirt.

Once outside, she slides down her front door, breathing a heavy sigh of relief.

The air is silent and slightly chilly with not a soul awake. Quickly becoming bored, Tep heads the same way as yesterday, being careful to look out for people. There seem to only be a few adults occasionally on the streets. After all, summer has just begun and most likely everyone is sleeping in for the first time in a long while. She'll start her third year of high school in the fall.

She's never handled stress too well.

Tep turns on her hell, walking towards the direction where she knows the school is. After about five or seven minutes she passes the large yellow building, locked and gated for the season. Something burns her eyes. Tep shudders with anticipation, expecting a horrible image of a death that _could _happen, but never will.

A force pulls her and eggs her forward. Obeying silently, Tep continues to walk past the school. Fairly soon, sidewalk turns into a dirt path and thick pine trees begin to block out the sunrise. A cool breeze causes her to squint and the orange light from the rising sun reflects off of a body of clear water.

A pond.

Tep eases closer, bending down on a large black boulder, jutting inwards to the water. She sticks her finger in the crystal blue pond and watches the ripples spill outwards. A foul smell reaches her and Tep pulls her gaze away from her own shivering reflection.

_Smoke? _

She turns her head and there, standing only about a yard or two away, staring at the black haired girl, is a tall and lean boy with scraggly, golden blonde hair and blue eyes as stunning as the water. Clasped between his fingers is a cigarette and he is wearing the same orange parka with the hood around his shoulders.

Tep yelps with surprise, nearly falling in the water.

"Hey, Tep, right?"

"Y-yeah. Was it… Kenny?"

"That's me." She boy gives her a dorky grin and takes a long drag of the cigarette, letting his other hand slip into his pocket.

"You smoke?" Tep raises an eyebrow, folding her legs under her and sitting cross-legged on the boulder. "Aren't you a little young to be damaging your lungs like that?" Tep mentally scolds herself for sounding like a parent and less like a teenage girl.

Kenny chuckles. "There are way worse ways to die."

Tep grins a little at that. "I guess." She mutters, having seen a few gruesome ones play out in her eyes before. The things that _would _have happened. If timing had been a few seconds off, if a voice hadn't called, if a dog hadn't barked, if a car hadn't slowed down in time… she's seen it all, only for it to end up _not _happening. And it sears itself into her mind.

"What brings you out here?"

Tep sputters quickly for an answer. "I-uh, have pretty irregular sleeping habits. Honestly, this is a little late for me. What about you?"

"Didn't get much sleep and woke up at the crack of dawn." He takes another long drag of the cigarette.

"I get that."

"So, Tep… where are you from?"

"New York." Tep picks up a small pebble and throws it out into the pond watching many ripples spiral outwards.

"Sweet. This must be a pretty drastic change, then?"

Tep chuckles. "Yeah, like you wouldn't believe. I can't go anywhere without being stared at."

"What happened to your foot?" Kenny raises an eyebrow, digging his cigarette butt into the side of a boulder beside Tep's, hopping on top and sitting by her.

"Funny story. I stepped on some glass yesterday."

"Is that why you aren't wearing shoes?" He stares at the bandage.

"I have a little… issue with shoes."

"You're strange, Tep, I'll give you that." The two laugh a little, Tep picking nervously at the skin under her thumb.

"I've heard worse. What's your story, Kenny?" She turns to glance at him.

"What do you mean?"

"There's something… off about you, I just can't put my finger on what." He looks surprised. "I'm really analytical, sorry. I tend to notice people's behaviors like second nature. I'm like a walking psychology book."

"Yeah, about that. Are you really a mental patient?" Tep pales and stares out into the distance. "Sorry, should I not have asked that?"

Tep inhales deeply before responding. "N-no, it's not that. Yes, I am. I've never been in an asylum or anything but I've been… hospitalized for what the doctors call, 'self-harming psychotic lapses'. It's pretty much bullshit." She dips a toe in the water before continuing. "In was diagnosed as schizophrenic when I was seven. I'm not like a crazy psychopath or anything, I'm not dangerous, or a stalker, or an axe murderer who hears voices… I just… see stuff that isn't really there or doesn't actually happen. Sometimes… when it's really bad, I collapse and have brief fainting spells, so my mom and my father insisted I have this." She holds up her wrist where her bracelet clinks.

"Ah."

"I also have night terrors and insomnia, which doesn't rely help with anything." Tep and Kenny laugh.

"I'm just pervert." Kenny laughs.

"No way, you? I did not think you'd be the type!" Tep jokes, sending the blonde laughing again. "The sun's almost up, do you know what time it is?"

"Yeah." The boy slides a cheap and crappy flip phone out of his pocket. "Almost seven. Don't you have a clock on your phone?"

"Don't have one."

"That fuckin' sucks. Why not?"

"My father doesn't believe in teenagers having them. He's a little… controlling. And a fucking asshole." Tep growls, rubbing her hip a little.

"Yeah, I get that. My dad's a drunk sunofabitch." Tep grins.

"Looks like we have something in common, drunk, asshole parents." The two laugh again. After talking casually for a little while more, Tep sighs, standing. "I should probably get going… I have an appointment with my therapist at nine."

"Alright. I'll walk you home, I have nothing better to do anyways." Tep chuckles.

"Okay." The two walk the ten-minute trip to Tep's house slowly, without saying much at all. It's silence, but a type they're both comfortable with. As the crème colored two-story home comes into view, Tep feels an increasing sense of dread, as she always does around her house.

Almost the instant Tep's bare foot touches her driveway, the front door swings open with a loud bang that can only be-

"_Nyarltep!" _Her father's booming voice growls with rage.

Kenny watches in shock as the instant and sudden change in Tep. Her back goes rigid and her breathing becomes shallow and anxiety ridden. Her dark eyes widen with horror and anticipation and a deep, deep dread and her fists clench until her knuckles turn white. Her skin loses all color.

"I-uh… I should go." She mutters almost inaudibly to Kenny.

"Get in the house this god-damn minute you ungrateful little bitch. What did I tell you about leaving the house without being told? Who the fuck is this on our property, Nyarltep?" He hisses with malice dripping from his voice like sap. Kenny is floored.

"No one, father. I-I'm sorry, it won't happen again." Tep, without looking at Kenny, hurries forwards, her whole body nearly quivering with fear.

"We'll discuss your punishment later, right now, you have things to do." The man growls, casting a dark gaze to Kenny who stands frozen on the sidewalk. As Tep approaches she slows significantly, as if subconsciously she's digging her heels into the ground. Her father reaches out a strong hand and grabs Tep's back, pushing her behind him into the unusually dark home. "Get off of my property, this instant." He slams the door with a loud bang.

"Father- I can expla-", a clapping noise fills the home and silence rings out afterwards. Tep stands, emotionless and hollow, feeling the sting of the slap fade from her skin slowly.

"Go to the basement, we've already lost enough time because of you."

Tep moves down the hallway and down the stairs to the dimly lit basement. On every wall is a tapestry similar to the one in the main living room hanging above the idol of Cthulhu. Red and black candles are everywhere, burning and filling the room with a smoky and sickly sweet smell. In the center of the room is a black podium with the largest tapestry hanging above it. Written around the edges of the black decoration in a daunting manner are words Tep's heard more often than her name in her lifetime.

In the very middle of the room is a black cushion and Tep stands on her knees on top of it as her father stands behind the podium. He draws out an ornate dagger. Tep shudders, touching the wound on her hip lightly and biting the inside of her cheek. Sometimes she thinks her father is more dangerous sober.

Standing on the podium is a large and rather heavy statue of The Great One, The Dark Priest, Cthulhu. Tep faces the statue and bends her head, her forehead touching the cold concrete floor. Her father opens a book.

"_Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn." _

Tep inhales. _"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn." _Her father pauses waiting for her. "In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming."

Every part of her aches to run.

She doesn't understand what could possibly possess the hooded figure Mysterion into wanting to get involved with _this. _Oh what Tep would give to be free of this burden…

To be free of this curse.


	4. In Her Eyes

**I added some Creek this chapter... I can't help it, I just love them so!**

* * *

-Chapter Four-

"HAH! Beat you again, Jew!" Cartman shouts as the basketball floats yet again straight into the net. Kyle turns bright red and begins to shake with anger.

"Shut your €fat mouth!"

"AY!"

Stan pinches the bridge of his nose and groans, annoyed. "Look can we just forget about it? It's a fucking game you guys." Kenny laughs at Kyle's blatant rage and Cartman begins to dance in circles around the ginger.

"Nyah nyah nyah nyah, nyah, nyah!" He sings, teasing and further antagonizing the Jewish boy. Stan pulls an earbud away from his ear and checks the time, just a little after one in the afternoon. He sighs, already fed up with the antics of Kyle and Cartman. Sometimes he just wishes they would both shut up. It's a mystery to him how Kenny can be amused by this. They just spin in the same circles every day.

Kenny walks over to Stan, the basketball held under his arm as he watches Kyle and Cartman have a screaming match.

"What'cha listening to?" Kenny asks, taking out a cigarette and a lighter.

"Just Pandora." Stan says, disinterested. Something then snaps Kenny's attention away at the blink of an eye. A figure passes the fence around the basketball court, a leather bound book in their hands, their eyes buried in the pages, completely oblivious. Black strands of hair fall in Tep's eyes.

"Tep!" Kenny shouts, causing Kyle, Stan, and Cartman to stare at him, then turn to the direction he's looking.

Instantly, upon hearing her name, the jumpy girl squeals in surprise and jumps nearly a foot in the air, dropping her book and running face first into a parking meter. Her face turns red as she bends to pick up the book and turn to face the voice.

"H-hey!" She calls, rushing towards the fenced court. The gate is on the opposite side of where she's standing and instead of walking around, Tep places one hand on top of the metal bar and one of her bare feet through one of the holes. She then vaults over the fence, landing on her feet on the other side.

"Oh, hey, Tep." Kyle says. Cartman scoffs, folding his arms over his chest and muttering something like, 'fine'.

Tep looks nothing little than elated that they noticed her, let alone called her over. Stan steps forward, staring at the book in her hands. "What're you reading?"

"Just a series I like. Are you playing basketball or something?" Tep smirks, proud of herself to be able to carry on a conversation like this about normal things.

"Just fucking amazing, Sherlock!" Cartman mocks, pointing at the ball in Kenny's hand.

Tep gives Cartman a low and deep glare before turning back to Kyle. "You can play with us if you want." He says invitingly.

"O-oh, alright." Tep places her book by Stan's phone and Kyle's backpack on the bench outside of the black asphalt court.

"I'll keep score." Stan says, resuming his earlier position. Kenny pushes his dwindling cigarette against the pole of the metal fence and comes back to stand on the left side of the court by Cartman while Kyle joins Tep on the right.

Instantly upon starting the game Tep has already managed to steal the ball. Her speed is stunningly incredible and her precision and split-second decision making is even more impressive. Stan watches with his mouth open as Tep breezes right past Cartman, throwing the ball upwards from an angle and watching it swish into the net flawlessly. Kenny whistles.

"Fucking hell…" Cartman growls.

"Jesus Christ, dude!" Kyle grins.

Tep winces and looks down at her foot, lifting her already bandaged one and peeling up the bandage a little. She groans audibly, placing the bandage back over it. It's started to bleed again.

"What'd you do to your foot?" Kyle asks.

"I stepped in some glass."

"More importantly why the fuck aren't you wearing shoes?" Cartman huffs, still angry about the very brief game. "Are you just that retarded?"

"I don't like shoes, okay?" Tep crosses her arms angrily.

"Do you guys want to go over to the food court at the mall?" Stan suggests, pocketing his phone and earbuds. Tep's eyes brighten slightly at the mention of food. She sighs a little and puts on her best poker face.

_How much did I have this morning? _She tries to mentally count her emergency food cash. With the coffee from last night… About ten dollars or so. That'll have to do.

"Sounds good." Tep says, smiling a little.

Within no time the five arrive at the huge South Park Mall and Tep finds herself almost drooling at the choices. She eventually decides on the cheapest option, Chinese food. The mall is a swarming mass of people, adults and teenagers and children alike, all roaming around with groups or pairs, talking loudly and toting shopping bags and purses. As Kyle turns his attention to Stan and Cartman stares around at the different food options and Kenny checks his phone, Tep takes a few steps away and begins walking one direction, against a crowd.

A woman with expensive clothes and a large purse bumps into Tep and skillfully the ink haired girl slips her hand in the front pocket and, before the woman can even turn around, she's gone. Tep stands back beside Kyle, as if nothing ever happened and pretends to pull the money out of her pocket. Tep counts in her head.

The woman's fifty and her ten together… Tep grins.

"Poor boy! With me!" Cartman shouts at Kenny as he rushes off to an Italian place. Stan follows them while Kyle and Tep move over to the Chinese restaurant.

"What was that about?" Tep asks once out of ear shot.

Kyle seems like the nicest person in the group, or at least the most open. His eyes are soft and he has quite a temper but seems like a decent guy overall. Tep is instantly comfortable around him. Kyle and Tep slink into the long line and her eyes scan the menu while he responds.

"Oh, Kenny's family is easily the poorest in South Park. His dad's a drunk and can't hold down a job. His mom tries but last I heard she still has a drug problem and Kenny's older brother is a prick who left a few years ago. It's basically just him and his little sister." Tep frowns.

"Damn."

"Yeah. Cartman would never admit it, but I think he feels bad for Kenny. He buys him food sometimes, like today." Tep nods thoughtfully.

_I wonder if he does what I do… _She runs her thumb against the bills in her pocket.

Kyle and Tep quickly order and the food comes out surprisingly fast. Tep carries her plastic tray in one hand and in the other a large lemonade, her mouth clamped on the straw. The top of her head aches a little from… _earlier _and as she sets down her food she rubs the spot with her free hand. Cartman, Stan and Kenny are already at the table and Tep slides in beside the poor boy.

Tep struggles to restrain herself from eating like an animal. She inhales the food quickly but manages to not look like a total slob or like a starving person. She sits in the metal chair with her knees to her chest and her cup clasped in both hands, her mouth latched onto the blue straw as if it's a life line.

"Where are you from-"

"New York." Tep swiftly cuts Kyle off, already anticipating his question. Stan chuckles a little.

"Why'd you move?" Stan asks.

"Well uh, my father is part of an… organization that's here… some of his old buddies are still part of it and he had something going on at his job too… he works for a big security company or something and my mom teaches classes online for some university. My father's job pays surprisingly really well but has weird ass hours." Tep takes a break from gulping down her lemonade.

"What organization?" Tep jumps a little and her face flushes pale at Kenny's question.

"I-it's uh… some secret order thing, really dumb. I think it has something to do with beer, otherwise my father wouldn't take the time." Tep laughs uncomfortably.

"Huh." Stan says.

"Oh please, she's lying through her teeth." Cartman huffs from his seat across from Tep. Her face turns white and she sets down her cup. All of the eyes at the table stare at her questioningly. Kyle rolls his eyes at Cartman but Stan and Kenny seem interested. Tep gulps a little and shifts nervously. She inhales sharply and forces herself to calm down.

"Well yeah, cos' I really don't know what it is."

"What-EVA." Cartman drones, waving her off.

"Well… anyways," Stan says, propping himself up on his elbows on the table. "…have you met Token yet?" Tep stares at him blankly.

"What?"

"He's a kid that goes to our school, he's having a huge end of the year party tonight. You should come." Stan picks at a meatball covered in something really spicy.

"Oh… I don't know… I don't even know him, wouldn't that be really weird?"

"Nah, Token's cool." Kenny says, waving his fork around.

"I guess… I might be a little late, my father has me do some… work towards the end of the day." Tep grins. "Sounds fun though."

_There's no way I can make it to that. _

"Great!" Kyle grins.

Tep can't help but smile a little.

x+xx+xx+x

To prevent her father from finding out she's home and carrying out his "punishment" if he decides he wants to, Tep climbs her tree and goes in through her own window to get inside. She grins at her accomplishment and leaves her window open for the breeze. The sun has just started to set and the sky is painted with reds and oranges streaking above the world as if in a painting.

'_Wait… what the fuck am I going to wear to a party?!'_ She growls at the back of her throat.

Tep decides what she has on now will have to do as she stares at her reflection. She grabs a purple and grey striped hoodie with a fuzzy hood so the sleeves will hide her bracelet. There is no way in hell she'll risk taking it off. If her father finds out… she doesn't have a death wish.

A loud whooshing startles her and Tep spins around, hand flying for her hidden knife. Mysterion stands in the center of her room, cape moving around him from the breeze outside. Tep gulps and straightens herself back up, lowering her hand to her side and pushing the other in her pocket.

"Again?" Tep asks, frowning.

"You didn't answer my questions." Tep sighs.

"I told you I wasn't going to."

"I need to know." His voice is harsh even through the false tone.

Tep stands her ground. "Not until you answer mine first." Tep inhales deeply, about to take a major wild guess. This could end up really bad for her, she knows that. "You want to know what they did to me… what did they do to _you_?"

The masked hero stands completely frozen. Even under his mask, Tep can see him pale slightly and stop breathing. "How'd you know?" It's Tep's turn to be floored.

"I-I didn't. Wild guess…" She sits on the end of her bed, having never expected to be right of all things. Tep places her head in her hands, trying to gain control of her breathing.

The two are very quiet, each with their own baffled thoughts running wild. Tep is beside herself shocked. The masked vigilante looks like he's about to punch something. His eyes are full of an unmistakable rage, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

"I see things." Tep says suddenly, shattering the silence. She keeps her head cradled in both of her hands, staring at nothing but the floor. "I-It's not what they meant to do… I don't think. No one thinks it worked… whatever they did, it did something. I see everything. But only stuff that had to do with death. Like, I'll see someone walk across the road and get hit by a car, only to blink and realize they haven't stepped into the road yet and then something always happens to stop whatever I saw. I see everything that would have happened, happened, or could have happened. A-and I have photographic memory, I never forget any of it. A-and I have night terrors and I hear voices in my sleep- fuck…" Tep runs her nails through her hair, stopping herself as if just realizing what she said and how it sounds. "Look if this is some kind of prank…"

Mysterion stares at her, his mouth open slightly. "I wish it was." He growls under his breath. Tep sucks in air and keeps talking, even faster. She's already started pouring her heart out, what's the point of stopping now?

"I-I think the dream things are directly linked t-t-to…" Tep shakes her head and begins to recite something from memory quickly. "'_They knew all that was occurring in the universe, but Their mode of speech was transmitted thought… Even now They talked in Their tombs. When, after infinities of chaos, the first men came, the Great Old Ones spoke to the sensitive among them by molding their dreams; for only thus could Their language reach the fleshy minds of mammals.'"_

Mysterion stares at Tep blankly, feeling his throat run dry.

"Does this mean anything to you? '_That is not dead which-'", _He begins to ask, only to be swiftly cut off.

"-'_can eternal lie, and with strange eons even death may die._'" Tep raises her head to meet the startled blue eyes of the masked hero in her room. They mirror each other's expression of fear, rage, and horror. "It's uh… a couplet of a mad man. It's in the Necronomicon."

There is another very, very long period of silence. The sun has set now and the room is dark and full of shadows.

Mysterion lowers his head slightly, staring downwards. Tep holds her head between her knees over the edge of her bed, clenching her eyes shut tightly.

"I'm sorry." Tep says very quietly.

More silence follows. Suddenly, almost as quickly as Tep had blurted out her _gift, _Mysterion's head snaps upwards and he speaks.

"I can't die."

Tep raises her head but her hands never leave the sides of her head. "W-what?"

"I can't die. I've died so many times, only to come back the next day. No one ever remembers. It's like they… can't remember." His eyes are sincere. Tep blinks long and hard, raking her mind.

"…You're an immortal." She says very slowly, as if in a state of silent acceptance.

Neither speak.

"I know."

"Will I remember you telling me this?" Tep squeaks, her eyes wide.

"I don't know."

Tep inhales deeply. "I think… I think that's what they were trying to do to me when I got _this." _She points at her eyes. "It's the only ritual besides the human sacrifice rituals and summoning rituals performed… So, they either tried to… make me an Immortal or kill me as a sacrifice. Either way, it didn't work."

His eyes snap wide open like giant orbs of blue. His mouth drops slightly and Mysterion gapes at Tep. Tep makes a small whining noise at the back of her throat as Mysterion takes a step towards her bed. Tep stands and backs up very slowly until she's flat against her closet door, Mysterion hovering an inch away from her. Tep gulps as he begins to watch her intently, gazing into her eyes with a deadly concentration, as if trying to see into her soul.

"They were trying to… do this to another person?" His voice is raspy and dripping with rage. Backing up and inhaling deeply, Mysterion rolls his shoulders back and pulls his hood a little farther down over his face, hiding all of his features beside his mouth and nose. "I need to go."

"Where?" Tep says quietly.

"I have people to watch over." And with that he's gone. A chill rocks Tep and she glances at her clock.

"Fuck!" She hisses through her teeth.

Tep braces herself in the frame of her window and steps out onto her shingled roof. She turns and closes it behind her, being careful it doesn't lock. She flips her hood over her face and slides down the slanted roof. Her hands grip the gutter of the house and she lets herself drop, rolling a little on the ground before pushing herself up. Tep grins to herself and starts to walk.

The walk is farther than she anticipated, but not by much. As she begins to round the corner, a huge and lavish mansion comes into view. Every light is on and music becomes louder the closer she gets.

The first thing she smells is alcohol. The second is cigarette smoke. The two things that remind her most of her father.

'_Fucking great.' _She thinks dryly.

Shifting nervously, Tep steps into the already open front door and is immediately bowled over by the sound of people shouting and talking loudly. Laughing, drinks, music, it all blends together as Tep attempts to squeeze through a crowd of people towards a kitchen.

Inside are assorted groups of teenagers talking and drinking, mostly guys. At the kitchen counter is a black boy pouring a mixture of different drinks into glass cups. Tep slinks in past a couple chattering girls. She watches the boy pour the drinks with skill and suddenly he notices her and his brown eyes narrow. Tep can feel her face heat up.

"Who're you?" Token asks.

Suddenly a hand claps down on Tep's right shoulder and she yelps with surprise, clapping her hand over her mouth moments after, turning an even brighter shade of pink and forcing herself to look away.

"'S alright. She's with me." The orange-clad blonde says, smirking coyly. Token nods skeptically at Kenny but his gaze never leaves Tep's haunting eyes.

"Fine, McCormick. Stop drinking everything I have, damn it!" Token shouts as Kenny picks up two glasses off of the counter and pushes one into Tep's nervously shaking hands.

Before she can protest, Kenny puts his hand on her upper back and steers her through the throngs of people to a couch in Token's main room. On the farthest end to the right is Stan, beside him Kyle, and next to him, Cartman. Cartman has a can of something clasped in his hand and so does Stan. Kyle is the only one _not _holding a drink. Kenny slides down next to Cartman and Tep perches herself on top of the couch's arm rest.

She stares down at the drink in her hand. _"A-and I have night terrors and hear voices in my sleep- fuck…" _Admitting her problems to someone else, a real, breathing person, that was a type of bliss Tep had never experienced before.

"Earth to Tep!" Kenny snaps his fingers in front of her face. She yelps softly. "Staring at the drink won't get you drunk."

"I-I can't drink…" She mutters emotionlessly.

"Sure you can!" Kenny grins ear to ear.

"N-no, I mean I _won't._" Kenny stares at her for a minute and as if just remembering something from earlier that day he nods more to himself than her.

"Why the fuck not? It's a party." Stan laughs from the other end.

"I just… won't."

"Aww, is your dad a drunk or something?" Stan kids. Tep locks eyes with him, her deep and haunting gaze boring into his. Even in his slightly tipsy state he can't help but freeze up a little.

"Yes."

No one speaks for a minute.

Tep hands her glass to Kenny who quickly, in three large gulps, empties it. A familiar voice jars Tep out of her daze.

"Tep?" Craig asks, passing in front of the couch and stopping. A mass of blonde hair pokes out sheepishly from behind his back, two hands wrapped to the point of paling around Craig's shoulders. Tweek peers around his body, using Craig almost as a human shield. In the chullo wearing boy's hand is a silver thermos.

"Holy mother of shit is that…?" Tep stands, holding out her hands, her eyes lighting up.

"…coffee?" Craig asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Fuck yes…" Tep moans. "Can I?" Craig shrugs.

Tweek yelps loudly from behind him. "S-sure! D-do you have herpes or something? GAH- I don't want to get herpes if I drink after you- ACK!" He twitches more than usual.

"No!" Tep yelps.

She hands the thermos back to Craig who, in his other hand, is holding a cup of alcohol too. "Never pegged you for a coffee fanatic." His nasally and bland voice states matter-of-factly.

"I'm not. Just not a drinking type." Tep cocks her head to the side, grinning.

Tweek reaches up and pulls on one of the flaps on Craig's hat, pressing himself nearly flat against the other boy and burying his face into his shoulder. "Nghh- Craig… too much pressure- ACK!"

"I know, we're going." Craig reaches his hand up and touches Tweek's bony fingers as they dig into his shoulder.

"Tucker!" Kenny cries suddenly, jumping up and grinning like an idiot.

"McCormick." Craig regards him blandly.

"Fancy a smoke?" Kenny wags a cigarette in front of Craig's face. He raises a hand and snatches it away from the blonde, glaring daggers. "How about a _'_thank you Kenny!'" Kenny imitates Craig's bland tone.

Craig holds up his hand and flips Kenny off. Tep bursts out laughing and Craig turns the finger to her.

"Argh- Are we going outside n-now?" Tweek whines, twitching his head violently.

"Mmm." Craig says, tuning with Kenny tagging along. Tep, not really sure what to do, follows the three boys back through the kitchen and out onto Token's front porch.

Kenny literally _throws _himself over the banister and swings his legs skillfully under himself, sitting perched on the railing with a silver lighter in his brown gloves. Craig sits on Kenny's right and Tep climbs up on Kenny's left, sitting cross-legged with her purple and grey striped hood up to block out the cold air. Tweek still stands rooted on the porch, biting at his claw-like nails furiously. Craig doesn't look back at him, but pats his hand against the banister beside him.

"N-no way man! What if I fall and break my neck and I have to get _surgery_- GAH- and the surgeon severs my spinal cord and NGHH- I get paralyzed and have to life my whole life in a wheelchair being fed through TUBES! I don't want to eat through a-a tube!" He shrieks.

Craig lifts his glass to his lips and pulls his cigarette away from his mouth.

"Tweek, you're not going to fall. And besides, it's like two feet. There's no fucking way you can break a bone, let alone your neck for Christ's-sake." He balances the steadily smoking cigarette in between his teeth and holds out a hand. Tweek, twitching absolutely uncontrollably, takes it and pulls himself up.

Tep watches in admiration of their relationship.

Upon siting, he suddenly screams and throws his arms around Craig's neck, shuddering violently. "Shit, Tweek!" Craig calls out as his liquor splashes his jacket.

"GAH- Oh God, man!" Tweek pulls himself back suddenly and hits his head against the support beam for the porch roof. "HOLY SHIT!" He shrieks madly, covering his head with his hands and nearly falling.

Tep covers her mouth with both of her hands to keep from laughing. Kenny bursts out hysterically, showing no restraint, slapping his knee and _pointing. _Craig flips him off behind his shoulder. The black haired boy dips his head so he's looking right into Tweek's face. Tweek mutters something very softly along the lines of, "too much pressure."

Craig presses his cigarette into the banister and flicks it away, now using his newly freed hand to stroke Tweek's back slightly. With his other hand he pulls away Tweek's bony hands which frantically try to rip at his own hair. Craig bends a little and picks up his thermos off of the porch deck and extends it to the blonde. Tweek grips it tightly and tips his head back until the thermos is empty.

Craig whispers something very quietly and the twitching boy stands with Craig's arm protectively over his shoulder. The two, without saying anything more, simply leave the party.

"I'm taking his drink." Kenny mutters bitterly at the almost half empty cup on the banister.

"Kenny, Jesus, that's a lot of fucking crap in one night. Take it down a little." Tep says, leaning into the banister on her left.

"Says the one who won't drink at _all." _

"I have good reason not to." Tep picks at a section of chipping paint on the banister.

"And I have good reason _to." _

"How old are you anyways?" Tep asks.

"Sixteen." Kenny mutters through smoke clouds puffing out from his lips.

Tep scoffs. "Everyone I know is older than me."

"When's your birthday?"

"Not until fucking October. My parents enrolled me in school early or some bullshit…"

"Your parents _really _tick you off." Kenny states blandly, fingering the empty glass.

"Yeah. That tends to be the case." Tep closes her eyes for a second.

"Hey guys." Kyle calls out, stepping out of the house and planting himself down on the opposite side of Kenny. "Where'd Craig and Twitchy go?"

"Tweek had a fucking seizure and Craig flipped me off. They left." Kenny laughs, clearly very out of it. Kyle picks up both glasses from the blonde and his eyes widen.

"I think that's enough, Ken." He says cautiously.

"Whatever."

Tep watches the two curiously. "How long have you guys known each other?"

"Since preschool." Kyle says tiredly.

Cartman then comes out of the house, leaning against the banister by Kyle. Tep watches him intently. His behavior is a little interesting and his eyes never wander anywhere or stare out into space. He's always looking at something, like every action or little movement is never without definite purpose. He's probably stubborn, headstrong, and hot blooded.

"Oh look, the fatass decided to grace us with his presence." Kyle grumbles.

"Fuckin' Wendy showed up and had her hands all over Stan. It was awkward as fuck."

"I met Wendy." Tep says. The three look at her.

"I am so sorry." Cartman says. Tep starts laughing.

"She seemed nice enough… I guess…" Footsteps come from behind them yet again.

"How many fuckin' people are gonna' come out here? It's ruining the vibe!" Kenny shouts.

"Ah-well, I'm real sorry Ken." A childlike and squeaky voice says. Tep turns. Behind her is a short and thin boy in a light blue jacket with pale blonde hair neatly trimmed. His pale jade eyes stare out like orbs at Tep. "Is this the new girl?" The boy gives the dorkiest grin Tep's ever seen. "I'm Butters!"

"H-hi. It's Tep."

"Tep? That's an unusual name!" Butters grins.

"Thanks for that newsflash Butters, we all hadn't even _noticed._" Cartman drones angrily.

"Well-uh I'm just headin' my way on home!" He chirps brightly. Tep's eyes widen.

"Oh shit… does anyone have a phone? What time is it?"

Kyle narrows his green eyes at the screen. "Almost eleven thirty."

Tep visibly winces at his words and inhales sharply, easing herself off of the banister as if it pains her. "I really have to get home… like _really _have too."

Kenny gives her an unreadable look, an image of Tep's father from earlier that day popping back into his mind. He narrows his eyes. "Why? You barely just got here."

"I know… I really just came by to say hi, I guess. I knew I probably wouldn't be able to stay long anyways." Tep explains awkwardly, her nerves seeping off of her.

'_God I'm such a bad liar.' _She seethes internally.

"Alright then…" Kyle says skeptically. Everyone gives her a strange look.

"Are your parents really strict or something?" Cartman asks, even he's interested by her bizarre and detached behavior. "You wouldn't even leave your yard yesterday and when we showed up at Tweek's place you flipped your shit and left. The only thing you actually seemed _okay _with was the mall, but you were so jumpy any time anyone said your name you panicked. Now you're leaving when you haven't even been here for twenty minutes just because there's some beer?"

"It's not _some _beer, it's a fucking shit ton and I _really _don't want to get arrested, and yeah, so my father's strict." Tep snaps suddenly. "Big-fucking-whoop. Everyone has family issues of _some _kind." Before anyone can say more she speaks again. "Look, maybe I'll run into you guys tomorrow again. Have a great rest of your night." She turns and hops off of the banister, walking away swiftly until she's beyond the Black family's privacy wall. Then she runs.

'_My first friends and I fuckin' blew it by being a bitch. Great." _

As she runs home her mind drifts to Mysterion. With renewed determination for the one relationship she hasn't poisoned yet Tep picks up the pace. He wants answers about the cult?

Fine.

She'll get some answers.


	5. Ride Along

-Chapter Five-

She knows the dream isn't real, but the pain it brings is brutally present. Tep finds herself walking along an empty corridor, light spilling in from a source deep beneath her feet, throwing her shadow against the roof above her. Her palms are sweaty and that's when the voices come.

Indistinct whispers, nonsense, gibberish, a language that she doesn't know. Something so old and so foreign to her mind. Tep sees an image.

Blood. So much blood, everywhere, covering _everything. _Dark spires in sickly vibrant colors stretching out to a starless sky, _things… _grotesque, living things, twisted masses that somehow manage to move, making calls unlike anything known to any animal. No eyes. No humanoid features. Something with wings, horrible, vomit, _blood. _Whispers, so much noise that means nothing. In her dream she collapses to her knees, covering her ears with her hands and trying to force her eyes closed.

They won't close. They _can't _close. A voice.

"_We aren't going that way!"_

"_You guys, I wanna' go home!" _A teary and nasally tone pleads. Tep forces herself to stand. She looks out, her eyes straining and throbbing with each beat of her heart. She sees ruined remnants of a city, stone structures long gone.

'_Oh God the scent…_' Tep feels her stomach churn. '_Not real…'_ She tries to breathe deep and holds her ears tighter.

"_We all want to go home, Clyde!" _Tep stops breathing. Was that…? No… _Stan's _voice? With her throat raw and thick with the overpowering stench of decay and blood, Tep screams in a strained and raspy tone. She spins around in a circle.

'_Why can't I see them?_' She panics, making a small whimpering noise at the back of her throat. The voices speak again, less clear now.

"_What help, dude? Nobody in the real world even knows we're here!" _Tep winces at the voice, her hands shaky. It cannot be… it is definitely not _Kyle. _Tep shakes her head but can't calm her breathing down at all. She can't figure out why she's so afraid.

At the sound of the next voice, Tep stops breathing all together. This one is more distinct, clearer than the rest. She slowly turns around. The image before her is faint and flickering with no distinctive features. It's more like a flickering outline of colors, dark. Very dark colors. Purple and… the blurry shape of a green question mark seemingly floating just above their head. Tep shudders. This figure is _not _Mysterion. She forces herself to think rationally. The figure is short, very, very short. Almost like a child.

"_Alright. You guys hide as long as you can, I'll try and find help." _The fake voice isn't spot on… it's very forced, but still too similar for mere coincidence. There's no doubt now. Tep opens her mouth.

She screams with all the force she has, with all of her energy. It feels like her body is burning from the inside out, like her eyes are going to melt and her ears are going to explode. The sounds around her drown out everything else until a swirling blank nothing engulfs her like a wave hitting rocks at the shore. The voices are gone, and so is the sound, but the silence is even more painful. Tep finds herself watching the blurry, colored figure with the question mark falling over a cliff into a ravine. She throws herself outwards, flailing madly for his hand, anything to grab.

He slips away, unaware of her existence, and his body hits a silver sort-of spike-like object and slides down. The blood…

"_Ow!" _He screams, still throwing his voice, or maybe it's the blood in his lungs and the object through his chest altering it now. "_That fucking __**hurts!**__" _

More whispers. Tep finds herself being pulled upwards until nothing is left in her eyes, feeling as if they're ignited. Still she can't close them. With everything left in her, Tep surges upwards, knowing she's awake and _begging _herself to wake up. She never wakes up from these dreams, she can never wake up on her own, no matter how conscious she is.

"Stop!" She screams as loud as she can, her throat burning almost as much as her eyes. Voices and whispers and noise and noise and _noise _whips in through her head and image after image plague her eyes, blurring together into one endless chord of noise and a flickering, indescipherable line of sights.

Then nothing.

Just nothing.

x+xx+xx+x

Tep snaps upwards, panting and dripping with sweat. Blue orbs in the darkness widen with surprise. Tep yelps, jumping backwards to fast she hits her head against the wall behind her with a loud thud. The pain is nothing. Her palms fly to her eyes, pushing in as far as she can. Wet.

'_Was I… crying?' _

"N-no m-more… no more… no more, no more, no more, no more, no more, no more-" She begins to chant incessantly, rocking back and forth and pressing her now balled fists deep into her eyes, trying to force the pain to leave her.

"-_Tep." _A harsh voice snaps her out of her trance.

"No…" Tep hisses through her teeth, refusing to look up. "Not… real…" She pants. "…part of… the dream… not… real…"

"What are you talking about?" Mysterion steps forward with concern, one of his hands outstretched. Tep flinches away without looking at him. "Tep, what the fuck?" The thought hits him. _This _must be one of the dreams she was talking about. It had been a few days since he had seen her last and when he had climbed in through her window, she was asleep with her eyes wide open. Tep was practically dripping with sweat and was crying, her body twitching and flailing in her sleep. She had started muttering then full out screaming. Mysterion had no other choice to cover her mouth so her parents wouldn't wake up and come in. Then she had just stopped and lied there for a few minutes until she suddenly bolted upwards, panicking.

Tep sucks in breath suddenly and her head rockets up. Her eyes are hollow but full of so much pain. It's a look Mysterion knows all too well from the mirror. Something seems to click in her mind, a tiny flicker of recognition. She jumps to her feet, standing on top of her bed.

"H-how were you there!?" She whispers, horrified.

"Calm down, it was a dre-"

"_How?!" _

Mysterion inhales deeply, closing his eyes for a minute. "How was I _where?_"

Tep seems to understand his question, but as he explains the fear never leaves her voice or her eyes. "It was… spires, touching the red sky-", she continues, muttering something quickly that's completely incoherent. "-things, there were these horrible _monsters…_ You were there and there were others… other voices, you were the only one I saw… you were young." She blinks for a long minute. Her eyes snap open and she almost throws herself off of her bed, scrambling madly for her desk. She tears open a bottom drawer and pulls out a thick leather-bound book.

She frantically flips through the pages and Mysterion's stomach turns. Tep slaps her hand down against the page on a picture in red dripping ink of what she had seen in her nightmare. At the top of the page, in large, bold letters:

**THE NIGHTMARE CITY OF R'LYEH **

"H-here…" Tep declares in a wary and trembling voice. She steps back to allow the boy to get a better look at the image. Painful memories crash into him with renewed force.

"Yes… I've been there."

"T-to R'lyeh…? I-I think I saw you there, just now… you were young, and… there were other voices…" Tep draws a blank, mind sputtering. With her photographic memory, she curses herself.

'_How can I not remember?' _No matter how hard she focusses, it's like the other voices that were there have blended in with the chorus of painful whispers that were also there.

Mysterion stares at her, panic seeping in from her words.

"You _saw _me at R'lyeh? I was there when I was nine, Tep." He raises an eyebrow and tips his head slightly, staring into her eyes. Tep bends away from him, making a slight whimpering noise and looking away quickly.

"You've really been doing this Mysterion thing for a while, huh?" Tep chuckles nervously.

"That's not the point. The point is, how did you know?" His voice drips with force. Tep shakes her head, face blank.

"If I knew, you'd be the first person I'd tell." Tep looks up at him. "W-why are you here in the first place?" He doesn't respond, but simply stares at her.

"I should be going… there's something I need to do…" He trails off, looking at one of Tep's windows. As he starts for the widow, Tep lurches forward suddenly, gripping his arm with incredible and surprising force, her fingernails digging into Mysterion's arm. Out of sheer instinct he turns with stunning speed, almost about to send her sprawling out on the ground.

Her eyes burn with a type of intensity he hadn't even seen before.

"Let me come."

"What?"

"I said, let me come."

"It's dangerous." Mysterion warns, his eyes just as serious. Tep doesn't ease up.

"I'm not stupid."

"No." He says sternly, staring with fake coldness in his eyes.

"I'll follow you, either way. Would you rather have me following you or where you can at least keep an eye on me?" Tep narrows her serpent-like eyes, challenging the masked boy silently, with just a look.

Begrudgingly he grumbles a, "Fine." Tep grins. As Mysterion perches himself in the window sill, Tep steps into her closet, hiding behind the door. She comes out in a pair of black jeans, ripped at the knee, and her only jacket, her purple and grey stripped hoodie. Skinny jeans and long sleeves show off Tep's thin frame well, and the shadow cast across her face from her hood makes her seem daunting and like a shadow.

She moves over to her desk and slips her knife into her back pocket.

"What's that for?"

"You did say danger…" Tep watches him leap effortlessly from the window and walk across the roof of her house, pulling himself up to the top just by the shingles. He extends a gloved hand to her and Tep grips it, using as a boost to help pull herself up.

After the party, Tep was utterly embarrassed for the way she acted and decided it would be better to lie low and not get attached to any more people. Being the way she is with her father's frequent Cthulhu worship rituals, "punishments", and her therapy sessions, Tep decided it's best for her own sanity to simply stay away. The only downside was the small hole left from where the few people she knew had left.

It forced her to face something she hadn't in a long time.

Her loathing of silence.

And the way it felt to be alone.

Mysterion walks silently towards the edge of her roof, barely making a noise. She follows, her bare feet just as quiet against the cold shingles. Once a few feet away from the edge, he speeds up, launching himself effortlessly, as if second nature, to the roof of the house next door, his cloak billowing out behind him like wings. Tep stands, impressed.

"Can you mak-" Before he can finish, Tep runs a little faster, using the traction her bare feet give her to literally, _launch _herself up into the air, gliding freely through the small gap. So caught up in the liberating joy of floating through the cold night air, she entirely forgets about landing. She misses the roof of Cartman's house by a mere inch and her hand catches the gutter. Before it can snap, she braces her feet flat against the side of the house, suspending herself and lessening the weight on the leaf filled gutter.

Mysterion grips her wrist and pulls her up.

"Maybe you shouldn't-"

"Are you kidding!" Tep claps her hands over her mouth to contain her large, ecstatic smile. "That was fucking awesome!"

"You nearly fell." Mysterion states grimly.

"I'll get the hang of it." Tep waves him off.

He grunts a little under his breath in response before taking off again and landing on his feet silently. Tep takes a deep breath before her feet pick up speed, padding almost as quietly against the shingles until the roof disappears under her feet and the air whips her hood off, her black tendrils spilling out behind her and blending in with the black of the night sky. This time she makes it, landing clumsily on her feet. She staggers a little and Mysterion grips her hand to stabilize her.

She grins widely, bordering on a smirk. "See?"

"Where'd you learn to do stuff like that?" The hooded vigilante asks, starting again for the next roof. Tep doesn't hesitate this time and jumps only seconds after Mysterion lands himself. She again lands on her feet and tugs her hood back up from the previous jump.

"A few years ago, my therapist had suggested some sort of physical activity, saying it would benefit me to dedicate myself to something and burn off energy. I did gymnastics and mixed martial arts for two years." Tep jumps, gliding almost as effortlessly as Mysterion now.

His thoughts travel to the first night he met her as his hero persona, how she was covered in her own blood and bruised around her upper arms. If she had taken martial arts, and assuming she was good at it, why didn't she have any defensive wounds?

"Holy shit this is fun…" She grins as they pick up the pace, nearly downtown now.

"If you're that good at martial arts…" Mysterion asks, dropping down from a gutter and skirting quickly into an alley behind a store, "…how'd you get the wounds you had the night I met you?"

Tep's previously bright face goes stark.

"Some fights… you just can't fight back." She trails off, almost losing herself with conveying her thoughts.

She suddenly gags and her eyes erupt with a painful burning sensation. She collapses, shuddering to her knees, curled over with her hands cupped over her eyes to ease the agonizing pain. An image flashes before her of a man across the street dressed entirely in black and another man with a gun dressed as if he's part of some sort of gang… the man in black hands the other something hidden, and, the man with the gun secures it under his arm, firing without hesitation at the man in black. The bullet pierces through the victim's skull, sending his body thudding against the alley's brick and splattering it with dripping crimson. His body thuds to the filthy ground and the other man runs.

"Tep!" Mysterion whispers, his gloved hand reaching out for her. Without speaking or looking up, she snaps her arm outwards across the street to the alley where the man clothed in black waits, a package under his arm.

"He'll die…" She says, her voice raspy.

"Can you stand?" Mysterion asks.

"Go!" She shouts. "I'll catch up…"

Tep raises her head after a moment to find Mysterion gone, his purple cloak visible in the darkness of the alley. The other man, the one with the gun, comes into view and the man in black desperately tries to toss him the package he has. Tep dashes across the street, pressing herself flat against the building to the left of the alley.

She can hear the men argue and Mysterion shouting something but she doesn't pay attention to what they're saying. She watches them in the reflection of the alley in a store window across the street, her eyes narrowed with hawk-like focus.

Mysterion spins around as the man in black draws his gun. Tep gasps slightly, she hadn't seen that when he died… Mysterion brings his fist around, connecting it with the man's face before he even has time to pull the trigger. His head smacks into the side of a dumpster with a cringe-worthy crack as he falls unconscious. The man that she had seen shoot him in her "vision" turns to run out of the alley.

Without even noticing Tep, as he passes her, she raises her elbow, jumping up and elbowing him directly at the base of his neck and his shoulder. The man gags and staggers, giving Tep an opporotunity. She grabs his wrist holding the gun and sends the weapon sliding across the pavement as her knee connects with the man's gut. She knows _exactly _where to hit someone to get the worst type of pain… from personal experience.

Mysterion rounds the corner, astounded as he watches Tep's fist connect with the man's jaw. His head snaps backwards with the force of the blow and hit against the side of the building. He falls to the ground, unconscious.

Gaping at the panting Tep, he speaks. "Don't ever do that again."

"What?" Tep asks, slightly hurt. "I got him."

"He had a fucking gun, Tep."

"Not anymore."

"He could have shot you."

"But he didn't."

Mysterion glares at her. "That's not the point."

"Yes, yes, I got the dangerous part. Story of my fucking life." Tep pinches the bridge of her nose. "Please don't say, 'this was a mistake'." She imitates his deep and gravelly voice. "Because I'm fucking having fun."

He sighs, throwing the body of the man Tep took out over his shoulder. He drags him back to the alley and takes out two pairs of handcuffs, tossing one to Tep. He clips the man in black's wrist to a street lamp just outside the alley, and Tep locks the other man's wrist to a hook in the side of the dumpster. Mysterion bends and picks up the package, ripping it open.

"Jesus…" He mutters gravely.

"What?" Tep comes over and tries to look over his shoulder.

"Drugs."

"Sheesh. Is it always like this?" Tep asks as Mysterion jumps up, grabbing the fire escape ladder and tugging it down with a metallic clatter to the ground.

"Some times. This town is way more fucked up than it seems."

"I've gathered…" She climbs up after him and again they find themselves standing on the roof of a community center. "Hey Mysterion? I know you probably won't answer, but I figured it's worth a shot to ask. Are you going to tell me who you are?"

"Nope." His answer is quick and immediate, and just faintly, in his tone of voice, Tep thinks she can hear just a hint of amusement.

"Alright. I think I can live with that." Tep smirks as they vault to the roof of a building close by. "Told you I'd get the hang of it." She grins at him, practically glowing.

After a brief moment of silence between the two, Mysterion speaks. "Did you really see that man die?"

"Yeah." Tep says solemnly.

They slip down the gutters of another building and climb up a fire escape of a building glowing with yellow light out of the windows. Mysterion pulls open a window and enters the building casually. Tep follows warily, making sure her hood hides all of her face but her mouth.

"Mysterion." A cop says suddenly upon noticing him. Many eyes fall on the masked vigilante and then to the girl standing behind him like a shadow.

A detective with orange hair and a mustache approaches. Mysterion drops the package to the ground and kicks it over with the guns of the two men. "Found two men out by the bar with this. They're cuffed and waiting."

The detective picks up the package and his face goes dark. "Thank you, Mysterion."

A cop with brown hair and a face covered in freckles calls from the back of the room. "Who's that?" Tep jumps slightly. Mysterion doesn't answer and turns to the window. Tep follows closely behind him, feeling her face heat up under her blush as they climb to the top of the building and step up onto the roof.

"That was awkward." She grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Had to drop the drugs off _somewhere._" As they approach the edge of the roof, Tep's heart drops into her stomach. A black truck speeds erratically down the road towards the direction where Tep's house is. Her face goes pale. "Drunk driver." Mysterion says, bracing himself to slide down the building. Tep stops him.

"Don't." Her voice is dry and void of all emotion.

"What?"

"It's my father." She mutters, watching the car speed through a stop sign, her eyes as dead as they looked when she had just woken up from her nightmare.

Mysterion waits for a few minutes before speaking, choosing his words carefully. "Tep, when I first met you, those wounds, were they-"

"-him?" She finishes, her voice dripping with venom and loathing. Neither speak for a moment. "I should probably get home… if he finds out I'm gone…"

Mysterion watches her curiously. "What does he do to you?" He asks suddenly, making Tep jump.

"I don't know what you're-"

"I saw the wound on your hip and I have a pretty good feeling it was him." Mysterion's voice is grave.

"Can you just take me back now?" She asks, her voice low, avoiding his eyes at all costs.

"I can do something you know-"

"No, you can't. The man's fucking untouchable." She turns and stares Mysterion right in his eyes. "Don't do anything. Really, don't." He sighs and starts back the direction they came.

In about ten minutes they stand on Tep's roof, just outside her window. She slides it open and steps in, Mysterion after her. She pulls her hood down around her shoulders, her nose slightly red from the chilly early morning air. "Thank you." She says sincerely, smiling. "That was a lot of fun." Her voice is quiet to keep her father from hearing. As she sets her knife down on the end of her bed she turns to him again. "Do you... do you think you'd let me come again tomorrow?"

Mysterion looks at her for a long moment, her eyes are wide and pleading silently. "We'll see." And he slips out of the window, leaving Tep alone in her room.

She closes the window behind him and sits in her desk chair, slipping her knife back into the sheath underneath the table top.

Tep then realizes something.

Hanging out with Mysterion made her long for the normal relationships she was able to keep for a few days. She smiles woefully and with a new sense of determination she decides something.

Friends won't just come to her.

And she wants them really fucking bad.


	6. Talked To An Enemy

**Hi! Sorry I was so late with this chapter... it's a little short, too, but the next one will be longer, I promise! I came down with the stomach flu at three in the morning yesterday and decided I was not going to update, sue me. I'm good now but didn't really take the time to edit, so please forgo any mistakes, I'll get back and fix them later. Maybe. **

**This chapters a little... uneventful, but reveals a lot about Tep's past!**

**Special thanks to my reviewers: Jon The New Kid In Town, TheGrimKeeper, SaphiriaRyuuka**

* * *

-Chapter Six-

Tep presses her cheek against the cold glass of the car window, watching the street and hills roll by with small clusters of pine trees dotting the outskirts of a much larger forest. She sighs, playing with a loose thread on her purple and grey striped hoodie, burying her face into the hood around her neck and inhaling deeply. A pathetic excuse for music that's really more white noise than anything spits softly out of the radio.

"Nyarltep, sweetheart?" Tep's mother says softly in her small and quiet voice.

"Mm?" She mutters just as quietly, touching the back of her palm to the rain splattered window. Dark clouds roll above their black truck.

"We're almost there to doctor Brideman's office." Tep doesn't see a need to respond. "What uh- what would you like me to bring you to eat afterwards?" The black haired girl shrugs.

"Doesn't really matter." The purple highlight in Tep's hair swings in front of her eyes and she flicks it away, resting her head against the window again as a large medical complex comes into view a little ways down the road. "Can I have a few dollars for the vending machine?" A few days ago, her mother, Laura, received her paycheck from her online job, so Tep sees little in asking for a few dollars.

"Of course." The car slows as they pull into the parking lot. Laura turns to her daughter, sighing, her face full of concern. "Nyarltep?"

Tep shifts in her seat, the buckle on her seatbelt clicking as she undoes it and faces her mom. The quiet pitter-patter of rain hitting the now steady roof of their car lulls part of her that hadn't been quiet for a long while. The rain just has a way of washing stress off of her. She watches her mother fish three dollars out of her purse and hand them to Tep before responding.

"Yeah?"

"Is something wrong? Something you'd like to tell me?" Her mother's brown eyes scan her worriedly. Tep groans internally.

"No, I'm just tired." With that she pulls on the handle of the car door and pushes it open with her bare foot. As she jumps down out of the tall truck, the sensation of her bare feet hitting the cold puddles of water beneath her rocket up her spine and fill her with a deep chill. She crosses her arms over her chest and pulls the hood of her jacket over her head, trudging around the car.

"Nyarltep?" Her mother calls, hanging her hand out of the window.

"Yes?" Tep turns to her, blinking against the rain as a drop hits her head.

"I love you."

"Love you too, Mom." Tep sighs as she turns and enters the sliding glass doors of the medical complex. An elderly man with an oxygen tank gives her a bizarre look in the lobby as her bare feet smack against the glistening white floor, creating small puddles. Inhaling deeply, she casts a harsh glare in the man's direction before he's pushed in his wheel chair inside an office.

A shinning engraved golden plaque reflects Tep's grim and haunting eyes back at her as she scans it for a name. Satisfied, Tep turns away and trudges, still damp with rain, to the elevator, already packed with people.

An important looking business man's dress shoe digs into Tep's toe as she reaches across a child and mother to press the button for floor three. She winces and bears the slight pain against her slowly healing glass cut as the golden doors slide shut. Someone behind her coughs, someone beside her mumbles something, another to her right answers a phone with an obnoxious ringtone.

"_Floor three._" The female voice chirps as the doors slide open. Tep mouths a silent, 'thank god' under her breath and hurriedly exits out into a small hallway. She passes a few doors spaced with long distances in-between until coming to one marked: **DR. BRIDEMAN, PSYCHIATRY. **

Tep pushes open the door and the slightly warmer room greats her coldly, as it always does. A woman with red hair sitting behind a desk smiles warmly at her as Tep comes forward.

"Hello, Nyarltep. How is your mother?" The nurse greets, handing Tep a clipboard to sign her name.

Pulling a pen with a fake purple flower out of the small glass vase on the counter she says, "She's doing good. I'll tell her you said hi." Tep pushes the pen back into the vase and moves over to the vending machine towards the back of the waiting room.

Her eyes glowing, she scans the choices and settles on a bag of bite-sized chocolate chip cookies. As she pushes her bills into the slot, a familiar yelp causes her to turn to her right. Sitting in the chair directly next to the gently humming machine, is a familiar blonde with disheveled and unruly blonde hair. Tweek jolts and twitches violently, pulling at the collar of his pull over dark green sweater.

"H-Hi Tep- ACK!" He stutters, a paper to-go mug from his own coffee shop quivering in his hands.

"H-hey." Tep says softly, remembering, much to her relief, that Tweek left the party before she went ultra-defensive-bitch-mode. She bends and picks up her bag of cookies out of the bottom of the machine and sits in the empty chair next to him. "I didn't know you came here… I didn't even know you come to therapy…"

"Y-yeah!" Tweek yelps loudly, his voice hitting a pitch that would bother a cat.

"This is my second time with this therapist… I came once, right before I moved, like an establishment visit, and already the ass wants me to try wearing shoes." Tep scowls at the blackened bottoms of her feet. "Bastard. Clearly, he needs to try a different method than just politely asking."

Tweek chuckles nervously and he speaks again, his voice still squeaky. "Where have you-nghh- been for the past f-few days after the party? P-people said you f-flipped and left! Craig told me that the gnomes definitely didn't get to you-but I wasn't-GAH- s-sure!"

"G-gnomes?" Tep raises an eyebrow and then something hits her.

'_They were worried about me…' _

"D-don't you know?! The gnomes-", a door opens and a man with square rimmed glasses and dark hair steps into the waiting room holding a clipboard under his arm. He has a blue and red button up dress shirt and dressy grey slacks on.

"Nyarltep Small?" He calls out.

Tep stands, holding her still half-full bag of cookies under her arm. She sighs nearly inaudibly and the doctor's eyes find hers. He smiles gently at her and Tweek twitches in his chair.

"Ngah- B-bye Tep!" Tweek stutters, clearly extra nervous about his monthly visit.

"Bye." She walks slowly over to Dr. Brideman, cursing in the back of her mind like a sailor.

"Good to see you again, Nyarltep."

"Yeah. Sure." He opens the door to a small office with a leather chair and a matching leather couch facing it. A fish tank built into the wall above the chair bubbles steadily and vibrant colored fish inside dart around as Tep sits on the couch, folding her legs crisscrossed under her and gripping her ankles.

Matt Brideman sits across from Tep, folding his hand over his patient notes and clicking his pen softly, positioning himself comfortably and waiting to dot down notes. "Good morning, Nyarltep. I'm glad to see you're making friends already."

"Huh? Oh, Tweek. Yeah, I met him at his coffee shop Friday night." Tep mutters, disinterested.

"The night of your first day in South Park? How did that meeting go?" His sickly soothing and indifferent tone makes Tep want to tape his mouth shut where he sits.

"Fine. They were nice."

"They?"

She sighs. "Tweek and his boyfriend, Craig."

"Did you meet anyone else since I talked to you last Wednesday?" These weekly therapy sessions are going to make her crazy. Tep taps her finger against her foot.

"Yeah. I went to a party on Saturday. It was pretty big and there were a lot of people but… it was fun." Tep admits, her voice stuck in a dry, emotionless tone in an attempt to annoy Dr. Brideman. "I left early though, I still had some unpacking to do and it was getting a little late."

"Tell me about some of these people that you met, Nyarltep. Or, do you prefer, 'Tep', as I heard Tweek call you?"

"Tep. I go by Tep. Uh… there was… Eric, Kyle, Stan, Tweek, Craig, Kenny… and I briefly met Wendy, Token, and a boy named Butters, but I seriously doubt that's his real name."

"Well, Tep, I must say, I'm a little impressed. Last time you were here, your mother expressed, as well as it was written in your files, concern for your anti-social behavior. She said that you spend most of your time at home with your books. I'm proud of you that you've successfully made some friends." He smiles at Tep, nearly making her want to hurl. "But, you seem to be holding back on someone. As your therapist, it is my job to make you feel secure and help you, but I can't do that unless I'm aware of everything going on in your life."

'_Yeah right, dick. Like I'd ever say anything about Mysterion.' _

"No, that was it."

"Are you sure? There's nothing you can't tell me. My relationship with you must be solely built on trust." His voice never wavers from that same falsely concerned and warm monotone.

"Yes, I'm sure. Those were the only people I met." Tep makes absolutely sure she's keeping eye contact with Dr. Brideman. She remembers something she read once that a way someone can tell if a person is lying is if their eyes move slightly to the left.

Dr. Brideman pauses for a long moment before continuing. "Alright. Let's talk about your 'hallucinations' for a while." At the mention of her 'hallucinations', Tep cringes slightly. "I can tell from your reaction, it's a touchy subject."

"No. I haven't had any since the move."

"Tep, if your medication isn't working you need to tell me so I can put you on something new."

Tep's been given all kinds of antipsychotics and other treatments, but because of her mother's all too trusting personality and genuine gentleness at heart, Tep's been allowed to be responsible for taking her daily dosage on her own. She keeps the pills in a locked box hidden in her closet under her clothes with her first aid kit and her extra knife and, just recently, with her blood vile she stole from her father. She keeps track of the days religiously, and when enough days have passed where the pills should be gone, she dumps out the contents into her toilet, and, once, dizzolved a few in her father's whiskey, just for the sake of it. The result?

He had to call in sick the next day with diarrhea. Looking back on that memory, Tep internally grins.

"No, it's not that… it's working fine, but… I had a night terror last night. It's the first one in months." Now that's not a lie.

"Well, that's not uncommon. You've just recently relocated, new friends, a new house, new everything. It's common for people dealing with stress to experience problems sleeping or bad dreams, in your case it's just more severe. I can prescribe you some sleeping pills if you'd like to get a few solid nights of rest in." Matt scribbles something down on his pad and Tep smiles a little.

'_That sounds nice…' _Except she had vowed to herself about two years ago to _never _take any medication given to her by any doctor, unless in life-threatening circumstances.

"But do to your history of having self-harm problems, I'll have your mother keep them under lock and key until you ask her specifically." he marks something down again.

"That was nearly two years ago, Dr. Brideman, with all respect, any decent psychiatrist would see I'm not in any state of mind _that _severe I'd even consider 'self-harm'." Tep feels slightly nauseous at the memory of her… _lapse _two years ago.

Her father had gone a little overboard with the… "punishment", and Tep would have bled out and died if her father hadn't had the sense to call the ambulance. Of course, because of her mental health background, her father's story, and the location of the cuts being on her wrists, Tep was institutionalized for two and half weeks after being released from the hospital and repeatedly insisting her father attacked her. Her father, the rock-star detective who worked nearly twenty years on the force, her father, a role model in his office and a decorated retired officer.

No, there's not a chance he's an alcoholic cultist that abuses his wife and daughter.

"I'm sorry, Tep. It's for your own safety. Now, what was this nightmare about?"

Tep inhales, a story folding out in her mind. "I was running from something down this hallway and blood was rising up from the floor and trying to swallow me. I woke up when it reached my neck and started… coming out of my eyes."

Dr. Brideman is very silent for a moment as he nods and writes something down.

"Go on."

"That was it. I woke up after that."

"What did you do when you woke up?"

Tep thinks of Mysterion and the way it felt to glide so effortlessly across buildings… the way it felt to beat the living shit out of that man… the way it felt to be so liberated…

"I… I talked to a friend." Tep says quietly, but not softly.

"Oh?" Dr. Brideman looks at her, his eye brow rising in surprise. His surprise looks like every other emotion he has. "Which friend is this?"

'_Fuck, why did I say that?'_

"…No, it's this white noise CD that's really calming. I bought it just before we moved, it's called 'Talked to A Friend'. It helped calm me down after a while."

"Really? Who's it by?"

"I don't remember. I got it at a department store where I used to live. They have one of those panels where you sample CDs, and it just stood out to me." Tep gives him a flawless fake smile. "It's really beautiful… most of it is rain sounds and wind… some piano is on a couple of the songs."

"See, Tep, it's the way you phrased what you said that makes me doubt you. You said, 'I talked to a friend', wouldn't you normally say, 'I listen to 'Talked to A Friend'?" Dr. Brideman leans back in his chair and stops writing for a minute.

'_Fuck, fuck, fuck… I'm an idiot…' _

"… I just… I thought it sounded less pathetic for a minute if I phrased it like that…" Tep's eyes start to well up a little with tears and she looks down at the floor.

"Tep, appearances don't matter in here. My goal is to make you comfortable in your own skin. I need to know the truth of everything. For future reference, changing the wording of simple sentences can lead me astray. It's not pathetic that you've found a way to calm yourself down with the solace of music and without resulting to other destructive behaviors you've shown in the past."

'_I never tried to kill myself, why can't you people see that?'_

"Well, it seems our session for this week has come to an end. I'll see you again next week and, Tep, let's talk about your goal for the next session." As the two stand and Dr. Brideman opens the door for the ink haired girl again, he continues. "I see your still walking around barefoot. For the sake of your own health and safety, I'd like you to, again, try and do something with shoes on. Even something as simple as wearing them around the house for a few minutes."

Tep walks back into the waiting room, practically shaking with the excitement of getting the hell out of there.

'_Talk faster… god you're like a mother-fucking turtle! No, I shouldn't insult turtles with comparing their speed to yours! They're like NASCAR compared to how you talk!' _

"Have a good week, Tep." he closes the door behind him, and, nearly glowing with relief, signs out on the clipboard.

The nurse behind the counter smiles at her.

"H-hey T-Tep how was your- nrgh- session?" Tweek says, twitching dramatically.

"You're still here?" Tep asks, walking over to him.

He nods quickly. "C-Craig's car broke d-down and- GAH- I'm too afraid of the rain to w-walk!"

"Afraid of the rain?"

"Acid rain, man!" Tep giggles a little and sighs. "And getting on a bus with a bunch of potentially disease ridden people- GAH- I don't want to catch pneumonia from someone and have it infect my heart and die in surgery and I can't walk 'cause I'll get kidnapped and rape-"

"Calm down, Jesus, Tweek." Tep says, eyes wide. "I can drop you off at your place if you're okay with riding with me and my mom. And- no- my mom doesn't have pneumonia."

"T-that's too much pressure, man!" Tweek shrieks suddenly, tugging at his hair.

"She's really nice and you don't even have to say anything if you want." Tep gives Tweek her best reassuring smile, but reassurance is never something she's been good at. Reluctantly, Tweek agrees to accept her offer.

As they wait in the ground-floor lobby on a bench for Tep's mother to pull up, Tweek turns to her. "T-the guys said you f-flipped your shit and left when C-Cartman said you had daddy-issues. Is that-", he twitches so violently, he cuts himself off, "true?"

Tep sighs.

'_Don't be a bitch… don't be a bitch… don't be a bitch…'_

"We don't really get along, so, yeah, I guess. It's sorta' a sensitive subject." she responds quietly.

"O-Oh… alright."

A black truck rounds the corner and comes into view of the building's large glass panels by the door. Tep stands, and, very wearily, Tweek follows. Tep pulls open the passenger side door and her mother's eyes widen at the sight of the tall, rail-thin blonde with dark bags under his eyes and the hair of a cartoon mad-scientist.

"Mom, this is Tweek, his boyfriend's car broke down so I offered to drop him off at his place. Tweek, my mom." Tweek jumps and stutters something incoherent before Tep opens the backseat door and shoves him inside.

As the car pulls out of the parking lot, Tweek nervously looks out the window at the rain, now heavily falling. Tep watches her mother turn to her and mouth silently, "boyfriend?", looking shocked.

Tep rolls her eyes and stares out at the road in front of them, putting her feet up on the dashboard.

"So, Tweek, do you go to the local highschool?"

"Y-yes, ma'am!" he shouts suddenly and shrilly, causing Laura to jump.

"Is it nice?"

"Y-yes!" Tep turns around to look in the backseat and mouths, "calm yourself" before flicking through radio stations half-heartedly. As the twenty minute drive dwindles away quickly, Tep directs her mother through the streets to Tweek Bro's Coffee. In ten more minutes the black truck pulls out front of the coffee shop and Tweek hurriedly expresses how grateful he is and how sorry he is.

Then Tep and her mother pull into their garage at home.

x+xx+xx+x

A desire wells up like a flood. A craving, brutal and fleeting. Tep collapses to her knees, staring up at her ceiling, eyes wide and straining against the dark. How long she had kneeled here for, she doesn't really remember. It came to her, like a hand in the dark, and ripped at her eyes.

It had felt impossible to move afterwards.

So, she didn't.

Tep, with her hand shaking, raises it to tentatively touch her right eye, her breath shuddering and shallow. As her skin brushes against the injury, she feels part of her buckle. Shaking, she draws away her palm and stares at it.

Blood.

Her mouth drops open a little, and, the only thing that keeps her from screaming, is her own breathlessness. The cut is deep and across her right eyelid, right under her eyebrow. The crimson, warm liquid drips down steadily, blocking her vision. The pain had long ago dispersed, and left her hollow, here, bent on the floor, head craned upwards, letting the blood roll onto her eye and sting at contact with her iris.

It feels like warm tears.

Forcing herself out of her daze, Tep pushes her palm into her eye, shuddering at the pain that splits through her eye as the blood is forced deeper. Tears well in both eyes, attempting to push out the foreign liquid.

She stands, and immediately swoons, bending over drastically until she can get ahold of herself. Still stumbling and dizzy, Tep moves until she stands in front of her mirror. Panting still from shock and numbness, she pulls up her blood splattered shirt. A painting of purple bruises line her ribs and lower stomach. The wound on her hip is healing and looks ghastly. A mark, seared into her flesh long ago stares at her in the mirror from just above her belly-button. The head of that ghastly dark priest…

Filled with deep loathing, Tep reaches into her closet and pulls on a red pull-over sweater with a hood and tugs on a new pair of pants, light grey many-pocketed cargos. She stares at her reflection in the mirror, and at the shallow cut under her eyebrow, steadily dripping blood. Tep pulls open her nightstand drawer and grabs her first aid kit, gently dabbing the cut with peroxide and wiping the blood off of her face. As she bandages the cut with a small adhesive strip, her entire body shudders.

'_He knows.'_

This was the first time her father had ever gone after her eyes. When she had come home and Tep had seen him in the living room, he looked absolutely enraged. Shouting something incoherent and absolutely nonsensical, he had lunged for her, intent on gouging out her eyes.

He drove her up into her room, gripping the hilt of his knife, and forced her to kneel. Tep thought that was it. She thought she would definitely die. He would kill her this time. Instead he ran the knife across her eyelid, just under her eyebrow and left her there, paralyzed with fear.

'_He knows it worked.' _

There really aren't any options now.

She needs to get the fuck away from him. At least until he sobers up. Or passes out. Or goes to work. Or gets hit by a bus. That would be a miracle.

Tep, still shaking with adrenaline, reaches into her closet and pulls out a leather messenger bag. She moves swiftly over to her lock-box, takes the key off the necklace tucked into her shirt, and pulls out fifty dollars cash. Before closing the lid, Tep picks up her blood vile, staring her grimly in the face. Slowly, she turns over the thin glass tube in between her thumb and index finger. She tosses the vile back in the box and makes sure to lock the lid before grabbing her knife, a clean shirt, and a collapsible umbrella.

The rain is still pounding down on the glass panes outside of her window, and, cursing against the cold sting of the raindrops, the ink-haired girl slips out, sliding down her roof and dropping gracefully to the driveway. Tep does a three-sixty, and runs.


	7. Nothin' Like A Psychotic Breakdown

**A/N:** _Sorry everyone, I know it's been awhile! Things have gotten pretty busy for me recently but I have not abandoned my fanfics! I know this chapter is pretty short compared to the others, so sorry, and the story will be getting good here soon. Thanks for everyone for reading and especially to KaioM for the compliment! This is my first time writing angst so I'm glad you like it! I'm a really terrible comedic writer... T^T but I think I'm doing okay... right? _

_I've also started writing in first person now and I take great pride in the first scene of this chapter, it was really fun to write. Thanks for reading!_

_-^BetsunoNeko^_

* * *

-Chapter Seven-

**Tep's pov.-**

I can't go home. I can't go to sleep. I'm starting to think I'm an insomniac. I can't calm down. I can't slow my breathing. I'm starting to think I'm going to have a panic attack. It's raining. When did it start doing that…? I'm dizzy. Really, really dizzy. And thirsty. Maybe I'll drink some of the rain water-

I bump into something. A wall? A lamp post? Mailbox?

"Sorry-", I say, and keep going. My feet hurt. I think my eye may be still bleeding. Oh god no… my eyes… I want them _gone. _

Oh, yes, _that's _what I was going to do. I came out here to rip out my eyes. No… no that's not right either. God, why can't I think right? Maybe the sleeplessness, the blood loss, the dizziness, the thirst that I can't push away? My stomach hurts. I think I'm hungry. The thought of food makes me want to vomit, so that probably isn't it. My eye stings.

Why do I feel like this? Maybe it had something to do with _that. _That bloody image I saw as I left earlier. Earlier? Was it earlier? It could have been days ago… weeks ago… _years _ago. I don't remember. Why is it hard to remember stuff right now? I don't even think I can feel my hands… It's cold. I know that too…

My foot hits something. I drop down a little. Asphalt…? Did I walk off the curb? I turn and head back to the sidewalk. Okay… better. I stumble a little. Bile burns my throat. I make a noise at the back of my throat. Blood. Blood and only blood. The bus crashed. The people screamed. There was fire… so much fire and blood and the stench of burning flesh and the smoke and the-the…

I keel over in the middle of the sidewalk and vomit, vertigo swallowing me whole like a monster. My ears ring painfully and my eyes sting like nothing I've ever felt. So much death… then I see the bus driving past me, intact. No screams, no flames, no blood. Which one was reality…? Is this reality…?

I keep walking because I really don't know what else to do. My head spins. It's really dark outside now. I know that. It's really dark. Night, probably. I wonder if I'm actually seeing the moon or if that's just another trick of my eyes too.

I see that city as I swim in this realm of unconscious-consciousness. That city with the ambling spires reaching up for bloody and metallic skies. The disembodied cries and voices, the instinctual beastly howls that filled the world and the voices that were so out of place. The blurry colors and figures in costumes playing amongst the ruins of… of…. I know this place. What is its name? I know this place. Name… name… the nameless… the nightmare city. R'lyeh.

"…R'lyeh!" I find myself shouting brokenly out into the empty streets.

The noise. That bus hitting the building and the fire and the blood and the _screams _and then everything goes black and dizzy and I'm dancing. I'm dancing and the world is a stage for me and my bloody eyes and then I bump into something. It's a warm something.

"Oh… sorry," I mutter before losing it all and falling completely backwards into the night that's waiting to hold me.

x+xx+xx+x

I jolt awake, screaming. Fire consumes my eyes, smoke fills my nose, screams echo in my head like bullets ricocheting-

A hand claps over my mouth. Everything stops. My eyes are open, open so wide to the point where the air against them burns. I'm not breathing and my lungs are straining impossibly against my chest. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears and feel every bead of sweat roll off of my face. There are two possibilities here. One; this is part of some crazily lucid dream. Two; my father.

The room is so dark I can't see. The hand over my mouth smells bizarrely unfamiliar and then something is at my ear, breathing down my neck. "You're fine." My body practically convulses with relief. My eyes close, lungs empty and gasp for air, muscles relax. Mysterion. After a second of me panting, his hand drops away from my mouth. A light flicks on somewhere and I see him.

He looks scary and gaunt in the dark framed by only a yellow bed-side lamp giving him a comic-book dramatic effect. Deep shadows are cast over his tall form and that green question mark bounces on his head. His cape is almost as dark as the shadows in the room and… wait… where am I? I gulp a little and pull on something around my shoulders. A thin sheet slides down off of me and my eyes gradually adjust to the light in the room. I have a pounding headache and I groan something intelligible.

Mysterion remains silent for a while to let me get my bearings. My eyes ache and I want nothing more than to close them… I shudder at the thought of sleep.

"…Why am I here?" I ask quietly.

"I brought you here," he responds in his gravely fake voice.

"Where is here?" I continue. "And why am I here?" I rub my right temple gently, nursing my pounding head.

"A motel just out of town." My blood chills. I run a hand lazily through my hair and bite my lip. "As for your second question, I'm not really sure." I glance upwards at him. "I was going over to your place when I found you walking down the middle of the road like you were drunk or high or something and you kept bumping into things and nearly falling. You doubled over, puked, kept going, started to cry about 'clawing them out' and 'gouging them out' and then you started moaning R'lyeh at the top of your lungs. Then you just passed out so I brought you here."

I gulp, pulling the hood of my red pullover up over my face, wanting nothing more than to hide away. "I don't remember any of that…" I mutter. He seems expectant of some sort of further explanation. I sigh bitterly. "I wasn't _drunk _or _high,_" I spit venomously but with little effort. "…sometimes after…" I gesture at my eyes, "…_visions, _especially the really graphic ones where a lot of people die, I kinda' lose my shit. I go fucking bat shit. It happened once before and some kid at my school caught it all on video. They played it off as some 'psychotic breakdown'. I think it's still on Youtube." That was one of the worst days of my life. His eyes widen a little.

"Youtube?" He repeats. I nod, playing with the cold and thin sheets around me.

"That time it was… I think it was one of the microwaves in the school caught on fire and the whole cafeteria burned… in reality there were just a few sparks and some smoke, but not to me. I think I watched twelve kids die, but I don't really remember." I rack my brain. "This time… something about a bus? Bus crash? I just remember fire, I don't really know."

"Why were you screaming R'lyeh?" I shrug, not really wanting to answer.

"Because I'm a nut case?" I joke humorously. He doesn't laugh. "Why were you coming to my house?" An image of me frozen on my knees with blood dripping from my eye like tears flashes through my mind and the room chills about seven or eight degrees. I hope he doesn't notice the change in my demeanor but he clearly does. Mysterion cocks his head to the side slightly, neon green question mark bobbing comically on his head.

"You're pale," he remarks plainly. Dammit. Fucking hyper-observant prick… I frown and say nothing. "I carried you here." I feel my face heat up a little at the idea and bite down harshly on my tongue. Why the hell is he saying that? "You're too light. Really, it was like lifting a bag of feathers."

Well today's just fantastic, isn't it?

"Jee, thanks. You're quite the charmer."

Mysterion cocks the tiniest little smile at that and somehow it makes my heart beat a little faster. Dammit. He turns around and I notice a bag sitting on the chair in the corner of the room. He digs around and tosses something in my direction. Instinctively, I flinch. A fast-food takeout bag lies on the sheets in front of me. It's from some restaurant I've never heard of and it smells fantastic. It makes my mouth water a little.

I watch the masked boy sit on the end of the bed, folding his arms and waiting for me to open it. I gulp a little. "I-I can't," I say softly. I really _really _want to.

He sighs a little. "Tep, shut up and eat the food."

Well he doesn't have to tell me twice. I eat slowly at first so as not to make myself vomit, but soon I can't help myself and am eating like a wild animal. He watches me curiously but I don't care enough to be embarrassed at this point.

"Hey…" He nods at me to continue. "I know this is weird… but could you not call me Tep?"

"Why?" Mysterion seems a little surprised.

"Cos' I fucking hate it. I hate everything about my name and everything associated with it. It's my father's way of possessing me and my mother's way of trying to pretend I have some sort of innocence left by giving me a childish nick-name I enjoyed when I was two," I spit violently out, talking as fast as a high-speed train wreck.

"What do you want me to call you?"

I think for a moment. "Tess? I always loved that name… Plus, it sounds like Tep."

He's silent for a moment, as if thinking. "Okay, Tess." I blush at the way he uses it.

"Sorry, I know this is weird."

He shrugs. "Believe me when I say I know weird, that's not weird. It's reasonable. You don't want to be branded with something you hate. It's a disgusting label and it makes sense as to why you'd want to shed it." I perk at his understanding words.

"Thanks." We're quiet for a while longer, but it's comfortable. "Hey, if you don't mind me asking, what you told me, about not being able to die, is it true, or are you just screwing with me?"

We lock eyes for a moment. His are deep, sad, heavy and very thoughtful. He blinks and inhales. "As much as I'd like it not to be… yes."

I nod slowly in understanding.

"I uh… I found something when I carried you back here," Mysterion starts. I turn to look at him again. He holds up a shining glass vile filled with red blood. _Fuck. _"It fell out of your pocket when you passed out." We sit in absolute, dead silence. "Is it what I think it is?" I don't answer. I don't know if it's because I can't or because I won't.

I watch him pop the cork and a little of the blood runs out onto his finger.

Right then and there the world stops turning.

There is this horrible jolt of electricity, white hot that runs up my spine like a wild fire. It starts from the wound on my hip and runs all the way up to my eyes and down to my toes. I can't help but let out a broken, shuddering gasp and feel my body contort in the absolute shock. I find it hard to breathe and my vision blurs and spins. He feel it too.

Mysterion's entire body goes incredibly rigid and his face contorts. His hands shake and his body twitches violently for a second before the sensation ends and we both sit on the bed, panting and heaving for breath.

I'm gasping and clawing helplessly at the sheets and then I'm up and on my shaky feet, running for the bathroom and vomiting into the toilet. The food is undigested and burns. Fuckin' fantastic.

He's in the room with me after my vomiting turns to dry-heaving.

"So…" his voice is a little shaken up. "I'm guessing that was your blood?" I nod weakly, resting my head limply against the cold porcelain of the toilet. He nods to himself. He's unusually pale. "So someone is bottling your blood?"

"Please shut the fuck up…" I groan as the words force their way out of my lungs and sting my throat.

He doesn't. "Does this also explain that wound on your eye?" Giving up, I nod. He helps me to my feet and I follow closely behind him into the bedroom again.

"Why were you coming over to my place anyways?" I say in that hoarse, bile-stung voice of mine.

Mysterion silently stands and moves over to his bag, pulling out what looks like a wad of dark clothing before turning back to me. He sets it on the bed in between us. "You asked if you could come with me during my 'night-shifts' again… And, if you're going to be joining me, you can't be doing it un-disguised." My heart leaps into my chest.

I reach out with shaky hands and hold up the clothes.

"Holy… Christ…" I say breathlessly, admiring the dark fabric in my hands. I turn to him, smirking. "I'll take this as a yes." I stare at the clothing before turning back to him again. "I'm _not _your sidekicks, because sidekicks fucking suck," I make it apparent to clear that up. He chuckles a little, still in his fake voice. My eyes widen. It's a shocking noise but enjoyable.

"You're going to need to throw your voice like I do," Mysterion tells me. I contemplate this.

"I don't think I can. I can just be mute." I laugh at my own joke lamely but I don't really care.

"That works."

"Does this mean I get to know who you are now that I'll be working with you?" I ask hopeful. He just gives me this Cheshire grin before standing from the bed and grabbing his bag. He strolls casually over to the door and pulls it open.

He addresses me in the doorway. "I'll be back to take you home soon." And then he's gone.

But I don't really feel alone.


	8. Scars We Bear

**A/N:** _Again, another relatively sho_rt _chapter where not much goes on... again, more of a character building chapter. Next chapter will get good though. _

_Thanks for reading, as always!_

* * *

-Chapter Eight-

**Tep's pov.-**

I stand, bare naked in the bathroom doorway, listening to the shower water run, my arms folded over my chest, shaking and twitching rapidly. I gulp, rubbing my hands up and down my arms as the room fills up with steam. I inhale sharply and take a step forward.

_You can do this. Just a shower. He's not here. It isn't a bath. Just a shower… just water… _

As quickly as I can, eyes clenched shut, I throw open the shower curtain and step inside swiftly. The warm water hits my face and I gasp, gripping the bar on the side of the shower for dear life as the water rolls down my face and my angry and swollen feet touch the smooth porcelain of the wet tub. I hook my bony arms through the support-bar and feel myself panting and gasping, shuddering even though the water is warm. I practically lean against the wall because if I don't I feel like I'll fall and he'll come.

I'm terrified of baths.

Ever since I was ten my father had begun to make a habit of nearly drowning me. It was ritualistic because apparently Cthulhu will rise from the ocean. I must stand there in the gradually cooling water for twenty minutes, holding the support bar like a life raft and refusing to take my eyes off of the shower head, spraying water just at my feet.

Sucking in a large breath I reach for one of the hotels towels and bars of soap and eventually, after thirty more minutes of gradually coaxing myself into doing something, I come out of the shower feeling antsy, hyped-up, and very, very refreshed. I look a lot better too, having washed all the crap off of myself and nursing my feet a little under the water's warm caress (granted I had been standing out of it for so long that it was barely lukewarm).

I pull on my semi-clean clothes and head out into the bedroom again. Glancing at the LED clock and reading almost three in the morning, I surrender to the fact that I am not trying to sleep again tonight. Maybe I can convince my mother to give me those sleeping pills I was prescribed…

I curl up on the bed and wrap the sheets around myself as I flick through the basic cable channels the motel offers. I don't watch TV because my father doesn't believe in it. I settle on some comedy movie that's already half-way over but I can still follow the basic plot and find myself laughing occasionally.

It's about four in the morning when the motel room door flies open and Mysterion stalks in. His shoulders are slightly rounded and the first thing I notice is a bruise just blooming on his cheek, under his right eye. He looks exhausted and like complete shit. From the expression on his face I can tell that he doesn't really want to talk. I watch silently, muting the TV, as he walks into the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

He comes back out a few minutes later, still looking pretty bad. Mysterion silently examines me perched comfortably in a make-shift fort of pillows and sheets with a TV remote clasped in my hand. I must look like fucking royalty compared to how he does. I assume there are a lot more injuries under his costume that I can't see by the way he walks.

I decide to break the semi-uncomfortable silence. "You look like shit." He grunts something intelligible in response and walks to the plush (but uncomfortable looking) chair in the corner of the room on the wall facing the bed. I watch him lower himself down into it, careful to have his back facing me, and after a few moments of silence there's a change in the atmosphere of the room. His chest rises and falls a little slower. I smile a little. Mysterion fell asleep.

Deciding something, I reach for the motel's half-used notepad and pen on the bedside table. I scribble in my wrecked handwriting: _Don't flip out if I'm not here when you wake up, down in the lobby be back in a couple minutes. _I leave the notepad on the edge of the bed, so he'll definitely notice it if he wakes up before I get back.

I make sure to leave the window unlocked so I don't have to knock to get back in and wake him up. The room is in a shitty outside and run-down looking motel that has two floors and a staircase leading down into the scraped up asphalt parking lot and a separate building that says across the door in neon letters, LOBBY.

I pull up my hood and wad the extra length of sleeves up in my fists to protect me a little against the morning cold. The sun isn't even up yet or even trying to be. It's still a haunting shade of midnight blue outside.

The waft of overpowering heat hits me as I tug open the door to the lobby. This room is no bigger than my bedroom with a lobby desk built into the wall that takes up a fourth of the space. On the walls are cheap metal shelves with cheap plastic souvenirs from Colorado and decade-old newspapers and magazines and brochures. A drink and snack vending machine and an atm grin their luminous light down into the room. On the receptionists counter there is a coffee pot and some plastic cups. The middle-aged balding black man at the counter grins at me toothily as I approach.

"You have a phone?" I ask.

"Outside on the right wall." He has a distinct Jamaican accent. "Oi, you're that girl Mysterion brought in last night." I pale visibly. "Don' worry, I owed him a favor. Busted up the drug dealers that were dealin' out of my back alley about a month ago. Fuckers wouldn't go away, kept commin' back. Mysterion boy showed up and kicked their asses into next Wednesday. Cops came an got em' after that. Told him, if he need anythin' he come to me." The man winks at me. "What's your name girly?"

Wanting to be careful I give him a fake name. "Marley."

"Marley…" The man drawls as if tasting the syllables. It was the first thing that came into my mind. "Mysterion n' Marley… Not bad soundin'. What's a pretty little girl like yourself doin' up and about with a boy like 'im?"

I put on my best fake smile and offer a dry little laugh. "He bailed me out of a pretty bad situation," I state broadly, suggesting a wide variety of things that could have happened. The man smiles a little and nods at this.

"You look tired for a young girl." He gestures towards the coffee pot.

"Oh, I don't really have any money on me, sorry-"

"Nonsense, nonsense." He begins to pour the miracle liquid into a paper cup for me. "Any friend of Mysterion's is a friend of mine." The man winks at me. "Here you are Marley. My name is Mr. Keys, but you can call me Bill."

"Thank you, Bill. Is the phone a pay phone?" He shake his head no. "Alright, thank you for the coffee." I smile and take a sip, exiting out into the cold morning again and rounding the corner of the lobby. Under a florescent lamp by the side of the tiny cube of a building, is a worn payphone covered in graffiti. I pick up the filthy thing and hold it a good distance away from my ear as I dial to avoid touching my face to it of all things.

It rings twice.

"_Hello, this is Laura with Boswell Collections." _

"Hey, Mom." I say softly into the receiver. There is a brief moment of silence.

"_Nyarltep, sweetie, you weren't in your room tonight, I was worried!" _ Her mother's soft voice coos from the other end. I smile a little. I love my mother. I really, really do. I resent her for being a part of that miserable cult and even more I absolutely despise her for giving birth to me, but I truly do love my mother. She tries so hard to retain that motherly kindness even though she is utterly powerless in the demands of my father and she tries so hard to pretend everything is okay when I'm around and I know she truly does love me and I do her but I resent her for the choices she's made.

"I'm fine, Mom. Listen, I'm going to be… staying with a friend for a while. Not sure how long… Just figured I'd call and let you know so you wouldn't worry." I cradle the phone close to my ear and feel myself smile into the receiver. Something about hearing your mother's voice on a bad day is priceless. She works ungodly hours just to get away from my father and I've never been more grateful for it than now.

"_Oh, alright honey! How has your week been going?" _I haven't talked to her much these past few days. I shift in the cold that nips at my skin.

"Good. I made some friends." I can practically feel her cringe on the other end, no doubt recalling my father's reaction the day Kenny walked me home.

"_I'm so happy for you Nyarltep! Have you been getting enough to eat? Your father hasn't gotten a pay check yet and I just wanted to be sure you're keeping up with your appetite, it's important for teenage girls to get enough nutrients." _My father _has _gotten a pay check but he blew it all on booze. She's lying but it means a lot that she still tries to protect me like that. My sad and pathetic smile broadens a little.

"Mm. Course I have Mama."

"_Oh, the boss is frowning at me dear, no personal calls during work hours, my shift just started to. Speaking of which, getting enough sleep baby?" _I pause for a second.

"Not really. The… doctor prescribed some sleeping pills for me that I'd be grateful if you picked up…"

"_Sleeping's gotten that bad again, huh? Of course sweetie. I'll have them when I get home tonight around nine, alright? Gotta' go now, Nyarltep!" _

"Okay, Mama. Bye."

"_Bye, baby. Is the friend you're staying with going to take good care of you?" _I glance up at the motel room and smile a little.

I chuckle a little into the receiver. "Of course."

"_Good. Love you Nyarltep. Be safe." _

"Love you too, bye." I hold the phone even after the click of the call ending has played and now that buzzing of-the-hook noise thrums like cicadas in my ear. I just hold it, cradling it as if I'm waiting for her voice to speak again. It doesn't. I hang up.

The coffee is warm against my lips and it lights a small fire in the pit of my abused stomach. I've puked a lot today. It still hurts. A lot. It growls with the dull ache of hunger and the abuse of vomit. I trudge up the stairs back to the motel room and push open the window silently and climb back in. Mysterion is still asleep in the chair but now he's sprawled out a little bit more and his mouth is open a tiny bit. I close the window and pull my hood down, retreating back to my position on the bed and sipping the coffee gingerly while watching a rerun of a sitcom on mute.

x+xx+xx+x

**Mysterion's pov.-**

I wake up slowly like being dragged out of the bliss of sleep kicking and screaming all the way, fighting consciousness like one would a disease or a competitor in the boxing ring. I lose.

The air smells nothing like home and I'm quickly reminded where I am. Slowly I sit up and find two dark-purple eyes boring into mine with their usual unreadable expression. Tep- Tess. I sit up and feel the pain of tonight's battle scars shoot across my ribs and with every heartbeat my cheek throbs in protest of me simply living. I do my best not to let it show. The sleep helped a little but not much.

"Morning." Tess says to me, her eyes never leaving mine. There's coffee in her hand.

"Where'd you get that?" I ask in my false voice. It's surprising how quickly she's gotten used to it. She looks at it and takes a sip before responding.

"Lobby. I met the guy that owns it." I nod in response, slowly standing and making my way towards the bathroom. I search for the clock but she finds it first. "It's almost five in the morning. You were asleep for only forty minutes. The only person I've ever known to sleep that lightly is me." She chuckles dryly at her own joke.

Tess looks so tired all the time. I don't blame her. She must be petrified of sleep. There are deep purple bags ingrained under her eyes like tattoos that can't be removed. She looks paler than she had last night and her arms are just a little too bony but it's barely noticeable. She looks like glass. Her hair hangs in front of her eye with the small injury above it and she looks like a ghost of a person. Some of her hair looks damp but I don't question it.

"Stop ogling me," Tep- I mean Tess jokes a little.

I step into the bathroom, taking my duffle bag with me, and lock the door behind myself. I dig through the contents until I find my overused first aid kit. I sweep the room gently for security cameras, just in case, before standing in front of the mirror and tugging the mask off.

The weathered features of Kenny McCormick, teenage boy stare back at me. My hair is sweaty from the mask and hood and falls messily around my face, then again, when isn't it? I pull the shirt of the costume up a little and glare at my bruises. I add a little cooling cream to them because somehow that always makes it better, take a few Tylenol pills, slap a bandage over the bruise on my cheek under my right eye and try to crack the kinks out of my sore neck. I give up after a minute or too.

My eyes travel longingly over to the shower, and, unable to resist the temptation, I hop in for a quick rinse.

Fully costumed as my alter-ego of nearly seven years once again, I step back out into the bedroom feeling a little better. Tep-_Tess _watches me curiously. Damn it's gonna' take a while to get used to that. "Want me to take you home now?" I ask.

She glances around nervously at anywhere but me.

"Do you think… it'd be alright if I crashed here for a few days…? Mr. Keys seems nice enough to let me and me kinda' like it here…" I let her ramble for a minute. She talks unbelievably fast when nervous and just doesn't seem to stop. I raise an eyebrow. She doesn't seem to want to go home at all. The memory of me without the alter-ego costume dawned as I walked her home that morning surfaces, revealing the face of her father as he screamed profanities at his child down the street. I remember Tep's face, how absolutely mortified she looked. I can't help but turn my head a little at this as I watch her keep talking even after I've stopped listening. She finally pauses for breath, awaiting a response nervously. I simply nod and she relaxes all at once.

"I-I do need to go home and pick up some things later though…" Tess says more to herself than to me. Her inhumanly dark eyes are back on the mute TV now.

"I have to go," I tell her, walking towards the door with my bag.

"Oh- okay." There's some hint of sadness in her tone, barely there. She stands nervously and extends a hand to me. I stare at her blankly. "I need the room key," Tess declares as if it wasn't obvious to me before. I pull it out of my belt and watch her bony fingers grip it into her palm. "Are you going to be back tonight?"

While thinking of a response I cast my gaze over to the window. The sun isn't even up yet, instead its small orange head is just barely peeking up over the mountain-ringed horizon.

"Yes," I say, up keeping my cool and emotionless demeanor.

Tess sighs slightly in relief. "Good… See you later, then." I nod before moving to turn to the door. A hand shoots out and cold fingers wrap around my gloved wrist. The contact is startling but I don't let it show. I turn to face Tess. She blinks for a long moment, then, face reddening, she stares at her feet before meekly whispering, "Thanks."

I lean forward a bit and twist my hand around so that our hands are now connected. Tess blinks in surprise and her entire face turns deep pink. Giving her hand a small squeeze I search for her eyes wordlessly. Our gazes meet before I turn to the door and release her hand, pulling it open and closing it with a click behind me.

Outside I'm quick to slink into the shadows before the rising sun drowns them in its deceiving light.


End file.
